


This New Life

by astrangerenters



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Blood, Celebrities, Developing Relationship, Forced Cohabitation, Getting Together, M/M, Minor Violence, Secrets, Sexual Content, TV News
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 11:10:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20007343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/pseuds/astrangerenters
Summary: The Thirsting Virus isn’t discussed openly in polite society, but the Japanese government closely monitors those who have it. Nino’s with the NLM, helping the Virals adjust to their new lives. His newest assignment proves to be more challenging than most. And not just because the guy’s a celebrity…





	This New Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sky_fish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_fish/gifts).



> A vampire AU that isn’t quite a vampire AU mixed with a newscaster plot and a little forced co-habitation.

**i. quite deluxe**

As a boy with an active imagination, Ninomiya Kazunari had always dreamed of belonging to a secret organization someday. As it turned out, secret organizations weren’t all that exciting. Well, _his_ secret organization wasn’t. They were just glorified babysitters.

But it paid the bills and it meant not having to wear a suit and tie day in, day out. So he supposed there were worse jobs to have. Every morning he rolled out of bed, got ready, and left his small apartment for the train ride to Shinjuku. He shuffled along with the crowd, entering the non-descript office building down a certain side street. 

From the outside you wouldn’t know there was a government office inside. There was a Mister Donut on the ground floor and floor above. Above that a nail salon. Above that a company that sold boxes of Japanese snacks to folks overseas at a huge mark-up. And then above that on the top floor and accessible only by keycard was NLM, GK. Nothing more than a handful of rooms with a few desks, a couple of well-tended plants, and a refrigerator full of blood packs.

NLM was an acronym for the English phrase “New Life Monitor.” Apparently the term had originated in the UK and every country adopting the practice decided it was good enough to keep instead of translating it to their own local language. NLM was a secret outreach arm of Japan’s Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare. Who was the target of that outreach?

Vampires.

Well. Not quite. For centuries the myth of the “vampire” had pervaded cultures around the world. Superhuman strength. Sleeping in coffins. Sharp fangs. Garlic avoidant. The reality was far more boring. It was likely that the Thirsting Virus originated in Europe sometime during the Victorian era, had finally found its way to Japan after the Second World War. But it didn’t give you fangs. You didn’t have to avoid sunlight. And no, it didn’t make you sparkle.

Nino thought that it wasn’t the worst kind of virus to get. Sure the Thirsting Virus made you crave human blood, but it did make you stronger. It didn’t make you immortal, but studies had already proven that those with the virus usually lived an extra ten, fifteen years on account of a better immune system. So why wouldn’t everyone want to be a “vampire”? Well, it wasn’t so much a matter of demand as it was supply. It was extremely difficult to actually contract the Thirsting Virus - it wasn’t like herpes or anything. Someone whose virus had taken hold of them beyond a certain threshold had to bite you, and in Japan that was a rarity. 

At least lately.

Regular ingestion of human blood was enough to keep the Thirsting at bay. Miss a few days? You’d be a bit grumpy. Sluggish. But go a week without it? Then that could be a problem. An unfed virus made the infected person start to lose control. Lash out verbally. Then things would escalate until they attacked without hesitation. Becoming, in essence, an actual vampire. And it was only in that state that a biter could actually pass the virus on to a bitee. In Japan, the NLM existed to keep anyone’s virus from getting that bad. Because there was no coming back from that loss of control. The government wouldn’t allow it.

As a “civilized” country, Japan liked to downplay the existence of its Thirst-having citizens, its Viral population. Though they were largely harmless, the whole craving for blood didn’t sit well with most people. Nor did the physical advantages. It wasn’t “fair” that some people had been bitten and now got an extra few years to live. So while everyone knew they existed to some extent, Virals were not to be discussed in polite company. 

These days anyone who suspected they might be infected had to call a confidential hotline or fill out an online form. The government took it from there, getting them registered in the national Viral Database. But in most cases, someone who had been bitten and infected with the virus by a vampire wasn’t quite coherent enough to pick up the phone or type on account of being near death after said bite. The police usually found them first and called it in.

Once they’d been registered, that was where Nino came in. That was where New Life Monitor, GK came in. Nino worked for the NLM’s Shinjuku branch, and they were responsible for the “monitoring” of all Virals within their geographical jurisdiction - maybe a third of the Tokyo Metropolis came under Shinjuku’s purview. Within the government itself, the NLM’s existence and funding were on a need-to-know basis only. So yeah, it was a “secret” organization. But that didn’t make the work too exciting.

Employees of the NLM across Japan did weekly check-ins with the Virals they were assigned. So long as each Viral was regularly getting the blood they needed, there was no risk of them going rabid. It was Nino’s job and the job of his fellow colleagues to ensure that everyone they were responsible for stayed healthy. And stayed quiet. Their existence was a national security issue, if only because Virals in other countries had ruined it for the rest of them. Those other Virals with their frequent tendency toward indiscriminate bloodsucking and murder.

Most of the Virals Nino worked with didn’t quite appreciate his suggestion that they “make like Elsa” and “conceal, don’t feel.” But by and large, they did what they were told. They had jobs. They had families. They had friends. So keeping their Viral status a secret was usually a good idea if they wanted to fit in, get that promotion, et cetera. 

That morning started like any other since Ninomiya Kazunari had been recruited into the NLM. He rolled out of bed, got ready, and left his small apartment for the train ride to Shinjuku. He shuffled along with the crowd, entering the non-descript office building down a certain side street. 

He took the slow elevator up to the top floor because why take the stairs when there was a perfectly functional elevator to use? Once at the top he headed down the short hallway to press his keycard against the reader. The door to NLM Shinjuku unlocked with a quiet double beep, and he went inside.

Usually he could take the first hour of the day easy. He could grab a cup of coffee, log in to his computer and jot down the notes he’d taken during his visits and check-ins the day before. He could gossip with his work buddy Aiba-kun, the Viral who sat at the workstation beside him. He could place bets with Aiba about the kind of over-the-top outfit their boss would be wearing when he arrived, looking more like a model who’d gotten lost on the way to the runway than the government middle manager he actually was.

But instead when he opened the office door that morning, he blinked in surprise to find Matsumoto Jun was already there. He had his butt perched on Nino’s desk, his arms crossed. He was giving Nino the evil eye, presumably for walking in the door at 9:02 AM even though Jun himself was usually late on account of hitting up the “gourmet” coffee shop down the street. Sitting at the neighboring workstation, Aiba stretched and yawned, but only to raise three fingers of his left hand without their boss seeing the gesture. Code for Jun’s outfit that day being a three out of five on the arbitrary scale he and Nino had created. Today Jun was wearing that leather jacket of his that made him look halfway cool. But he’d paired it with those weird orange jeans of his, negating any progress he’d made with the leather jacket. 

Nino’s boss was kind of a pain in the ass - most Virals were in their own ways. It was like the Thirsting Virus only amplified their neuroses, their personality quirks. Of course they rarely noticed such things about themselves. Nino, being the only regular human in a really small office of Virals, couldn’t help but notice these things. 

Aiba’s impatience and clumsiness combined to result in little disasters on account of his superior Viral strength. Last month he’d sat down in a huff and broken his chair. Yuriko’s chattiness and curiosity combined to result in frequent inappropriate inquiries. “Hey Ninomiya-kun, what do you think about this guy’s dick? He just sent me a photo on LINE.” And Jun’s stubbornness and spoiled nature combined to make him unbearable sometimes. They’d ordered in lunch last week, and the restaurant had neglected to keep Jun’s noodles and soup separate as requested.

“We will never ever order from that disgusting place again!” Jun had shouted from inside his office, writing an angry review full of typos that Nino found later, printed out, and snuck into Aiba’s bag.

“Ninomiya, I’ve got a special assignment for you,” Jun said as he approached, completely oblivious to the fact that Nino was the type of person who didn’t like special assignments. 

“Fine.”

“Come with me.” Jun looked back at him. “And close the door.”

Nino followed Jun and his orange-encased legs into his office, shutting the door and having a seat. Jun usually kept his office door open all day on account of the Shinjuku branch only having four employees. Having his own separate office reminded them that he was in charge here, but he clearly got lonely easily and preferred to have the door open so he could shout at them when he wanted. The four of them were in and out all day, heading to check-in with the folks they monitored in person or calling up the ones that needed less supervision. It was morning times like these that Jun did the most yelling since they rarely went out for check-ins until after 10:00.

All of that to say that Jun rarely closed his office door, and thus this was a serious meeting. Not a “meeting” where Jun would call Nino in and ask his opinion on a pair of sneakers that he was buying on government taxpayer time.

Jun sat in his chair, moving from side to side, fidgety in a way that made Nino uneasy. “So do you ever watch the news?”

“In what way?” He was used to random out-of-left-field questions given the weird people he worked with. 

“On TV.”

“Do I ever watch the news on TV? No.”

“Alright, have a look,” Jun continued, turning his computer monitor so Nino could see it. 

It was an email Jun had been sent from NLM HQ in Kasumigaseki. Jun’s boss Koizumi-san was his polar opposite, a laidback guy who never seemed to get angry. A guy who drank them all under the table at the end of the year party but who barely seemed tipsy. But today Koizumi-san’s email was rather uncharacteristic for him. There were actually exclamation points in it. High Profile Assignment! Confidential! 

Jun scrolled down, reading Koizumi’s email out loud. “Matsumoto-san, attached find documentation about the individual we discussed last night. Please do keep this confidential from the rest of your team until we have final confirmation! Still in the process of arranging for a replacement, details to follow once solidified. All my best, KK.”

Nino’s heart started to race. He couldn’t even enjoy the ‘All my best, KK’ to its full potential.

“What’s this about?”

“A VIP Viral,” Jun said. “And he’s all yours.”

“What’s so VIP about this guy?”

Jun clicked on one of the attachments Koizumi had sent. It popped up a headshot photo of a man in a gray suit, mid to late 30s, smiling at the camera in a very clearly practiced pose. He was good-looking in a sort of non-threatening way. Clean cut. Big teeth, big smile. A seemingly calm demeanor. The perfect cover model for Ideal Son-in-Law Magazine, if such a thing existed.

“This is Sakurai Sho-san,” Jun said. “He’s a newscaster at JTV. A few weeks ago he was in India on location covering their elections.”

“And let me guess…he’s going to be the next big Bollywood star.”

“No,” Jun said with a long-suffering sigh. “He got bitten. Regulation’s a bit lax over there. Some rabid housekeeper at the hotel that shouldn’t have been working got him good. Fortunately someone heard him shout, got him to a hospital. He was put on a med-evac flight, and he’s been in quarantine at Narita for the last two weeks. They’re springing him in a few days.”

“A newscaster, huh?” Nino shrugged. “I dunno, I just read the headlines on my phone.”

Jun closed the headshot, opened a handful of other attachments. All newspaper clippings. Sakurai Sho wins major award for pharmaceutical pricing exposé series. Sakurai Sho at ribbon cutting for Keio University School of Journalism’s new building. Q&A with Sakurai Sho, Japan’s most eligible bachelor.

“That one’s not real,” Nino said, leaning across the desk to point at the last one. “Did all the idols and young handsome actors die? Ladies are really getting hot for a _newscaster_?”

“Nino…”

“Look at him, look at that smug smile. He looks like a politician.”

“Don’t be rude,” Jun admonished him. “He’s your full-time assignment, effective immediately.”

Nino stared at him. Jun stared right back. 

“The hell do you mean, full time?” Nino whined. “I’ve got nineteen people that I monitor…”

“And they will be handled in your absence. Koizumi-san is sending someone to cover your people for you.”

He shook his head. “No. No way.”

“I questioned their choice, believe me,” Jun said with that all-too-Jun honesty. “I thought Aiba-kun would be a better fit. But JTV has pulled some strings with the Ministry, and they want full-time coverage. Sakurai’s a big deal, and he’s apparently not adjusting well. They’re terrified that someone will find our their news ratings golden boy is a Viral now. So they want someone to keep an eye on Sakurai that’s good at keeping secrets.”

Jun punctuated that sentence with a pointed look, and Nino realized immediately why he’d gotten stuck with this assignment. Under Jun’s scrutiny, his back started to itch. He did his best to ignore it.

“Okay,” he replied, knowing that his protests would do him no good. “You said the guy’s holed up at Narita. If he’s some big news hotshot, how have they explained his disappearance the last few weeks on the air?”

“Malaria.”

“Malaria,” Nino repeated. “And how long do I have to keep an eye on Japan’s most eligible bachelor?”

Jun shrugged.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can handle nineteen Virals. They really need me on one guy 24/7?”

“Sakurai-san has apparently been in need of a personal assistant for a while now, given his increased media exposure and celebrity status. So that’s going to be your cover story for why you’re always hanging around. You will go to work with him. You will go on news assignments with him. He’s not sleeping much. He’s barely eating. He’s apparently not taking to blood so well either, so they need you to keep an eye on him in that regard too. Which means you’re moving in.”

Nino’s jaw dropped. “I’m sorry, what? Because it sounded like you just said I have to move into a stranger’s house and force feed him.”

“JTV is footing the bill for everything. Here, you’ll like this part.” Jun looked back through his email, opening another attachment. “This here is authorization from NLM to compensate you at double your normal salary for the duration of time they have you on this assignment. They’ll cover rent at your place while you’re away, cover your meals…”

Nino perked up the slightest bit. “Double, you say?” Suddenly this didn’t sound as unreasonable as it had mere seconds earlier.

“I say take the pay bump and just put up with it. JTV’s really going above and beyond for Sakurai. They’re worried about him for business reasons, financial reasons, the usual crap,” Jun explained. “But they’re also genuinely worried about him as a person. Getting bitten is hard on some people. I bounced back pretty quick, but not everyone is like me.”

The understatement of the year. Nino had never met anyone that was as proud of his Viral status as Matsumoto Jun. 

“What are you going to tell Aiba-kun and Yuriko-chan?”

“The truth. Well, at least the truth that I’m allowed to share. That you’re on a temporary assignment and that they shouldn’t bother you.”

Nino grinned, imagining going days and days without weird texts from Yuriko or calls from Aiba. He worked with such noisy, strange people. But still, he’d miss them. “Do I get any breaks from Sakurai?”

“Well, if he’s on air for a broadcast or working in the newsroom with his colleagues, you should probably take breaks then. JTV’s across town in Shiodome, but you can still come stop by. I know I’d appreciate it since I’m pretty sure those two out there are going to drive me to drink if I don’t have a buffer like you in between.”

He pressed a hand to his heart. “Matsumoto-san, you say the sweetest things. You really know how to make an employee feel appreciated.”

Jun snorted. “More news to make you happy. You can go home for the day. JTV’s got movers coming to your place between 3 and 6 PM. Take only what you’ll need, and they’ll get you settled in at Sakurai-san’s place. He has a guest bedroom that you’ll be using while you stay there. It’s apparently a…hold on, let me tell you how Koizumi-san described it…”

Nino waited patiently as Jun searched through his emails.

“Aha. He said ‘Sakurai-san’s high-rise condominium in Akasaka is a stone’s throw from the Prime Minister’s residence. Quite deluxe.’”

Nino smiled. “Quite deluxe?”

“His words, not mine.”

“That’s rather extravagant for Koizumi-san to say. It must really be nice.” Nino leaned back in his chair, sighing. “Does Sakurai know I’m coming? Does he know I’m going to be living there?”

“Yes and yes.”

“I don’t suppose he’s very happy about that.”

“Just be your usual charming self,” Jun retorted. “And maybe Sakurai will discover how wonderful it is to not be a regular human anymore.”

“Ha ha. Anyhow. What about my people? Some of them might get mad when I’m not the one checking in. They’re used to me.”

Jun waved his hand. “Maybe I’ll tell them you have malaria. Don’t worry about it. We’ll take care of it. We’ll take care of them, okay? I promise.” 

Aww. Jun actually looked sincere.

He got up, knowing he’d have to race home and pack up his things. “Well. Just so you have my opinion on the record. This sucks and I hate it. But at least I’m getting paid more.”

“A team player, that’s you,” Jun said with a laugh. 

He opened the door, heading out into the small office and holding up a hand for silence. Aiba and Yuriko both kept typing until he cleared his throat to get their attention. Yuriko gave him that enigmatic smile of hers.

“Ooh. Did you get fired?” she asked.

“Sadly, no. Turns out I’m so great that I’m being sent on a temporary assignment.”

“Undercover?” Aiba inquired, eyes sparkling with that Aiba enthusiasm.

Nino lifted his right index finger to his lips, offering each of his coworkers a wink.

“I can’t say. It’s top secret.”

“Oh,” Yuriko said, voice indifferent. “That’s boring. I’m off to Nomura-san’s check-in. Later Ninomiya-kun.”

“Oi…” he complained, watching her just grab her purse, get up and leave. He turned to Aiba, who was also getting up. “Oi, aren’t you going to miss me while I’m on my super secret assignment? No more Nino? No more Nino your friend? Oi!”

Aiba passed him on the way out, patting him on the shoulder harder than he probably realized, a look of amusement on his face. “Later.”

The door opened and closed, and nobody seemed terribly upset that he’d be gone. He could hear footsteps, Jun coming up behind him. 

“They’re jealous,” Nino decided. “That’s what that was. They’ll realize how much they’ll miss me soon enough.”

“Sure,” Jun said, voice amused. 

Nino packed up his things, grumbling under his breath about orange denim being a crime against humanity. By the time he got to the door Jun was already back at his desk, probably looking for something even uglier to clothe himself with.

He soothed his bruised ego the slightest bit by slamming the office door behind him as he headed out into the unknown.

—

**ii. taboo**

Koizumi-san had been right. This place really was quite deluxe.

Sakurai Sho’s two bedroom condo wasn’t on the top floor of the luxurious building, but the floor just below it. Perhaps he wished to appear humble, but it was clear that the newscasting business paid better than Nino had anticipated. 

Sakurai’s condo faced in the direction of Tokyo Tower. There was an underground parking structure for the private entry of its wealthy residents. A gym, pool and sauna. And according to the unobtrusive sign he’d seen in the building’s entryway upon arrival, a “signature scent.” That apparently explained why the hallways and elevators had a lingering citrus aroma. Noticeable but not unpleasant.

A representative from JTV News had been there to greet Nino upon arrival. She was one of the few people there who were “in the know” about their superstar’s changed condition. Inoue Mao-san was petite and serious, presenting him with a spare key to Sakurai’s condo and the keycard he’d need to get into the building and get into the elevator. As the movers had done their mover thing, Inoue got him acquainted with the home he’d be invading for the days and possibly weeks to come.

Sakurai paid for a cleaning service that came by twice a week, and they’d kept the place spotless while Sakurai had been overseas and then stuck in quarantine at Narita. While they’d been standing together in the kitchen full of marble countertops and stainless steel appliances, Mao-san had gestured to the refrigerator. “Is that going to be a problem with the…with the…you know, with Sakurai-san’s new…needs…”

He’d been patient with her. This was his job after all. “Are you asking about the blood? You’re concerned about the cleaning people finding it?”

Mao-san had reddened. “Ah…yes…”

“It will be delivered in discreet packaging. I already placed a standing order for him on my way over here. You’ll just have to give me the JTV account details to use for payment. The bottled stuff looks like a protein drink. And if he needs something fresher, I have a government badge that gets me into a hospital in the area.”

“Oh.”

Once that awkward conversation and its implications were out of the way, he got the grand tour. The living room with its big screen TV and plush sofa. The elegant bookshelves full of books for intelligent people or those who liked to appear that way. The first sign that the owner had a personality came when Nino spotted an odd table in the corner of the room that had at least 20 snow globes arranged on top of it.

“He buys one whenever he does an overseas assignment,” Mao-san had explained.

Nino picked one up that came from the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics, giving it a shake. “Interesting choice for a souvenir.”

“He’s an interesting man,” Mao had simply replied.

For politeness’ sake she hadn’t shown him Sakurai’s bedroom, but the guest room Nino would use was about twice the size of his room at home. Plenty of room for both a double bed and the TV he’d brought with him in order to hook up his gaming consoles. He wasn’t going to let his new assignment keep him from his hobbies. The bathroom was as spotless as the rest of the condo, rather Western in design with black tile, heated floors, a separate glass-enclosed shower, and a bathtub large enough to fit two. Which prompted his next inquiry.

“Mao-san, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is Sakurai-san seeing anyone right now? Should I be concerned about someone coming over?”

Japan’s most eligible bachelor or no, that didn’t mean the guy didn’t date.

At that Mao-san had actually looked sad. “He’s always been very focused on his job. And we did confirm with him once we decided to arrange for your help. He said there was nothing to worry about in that regard.”

Okay good, Nino had decided. Sakurai wasn’t getting laid on the regular, so Nino didn’t have to worry about any girlfriends or boyfriends popping in unannounced to find a stranger like him using Sakurai’s shower.

Mao-san went over a few more logistical things with him before leaving him alone. Unless he was out of town on assignment, Sakurai appeared on JTV’s Zero News program Monday through Friday at 11 PM as one of the main casters. He went to the station around 4:00, and a driver named Ueda picked him up at 3:30. At least for now, Nino would also be coming to JTV with him. After Zero News was over, there was a brief staff meeting, and then a different driver, Masuda, would bring them both back to the condo. The drivers were not to be told about Sakurai’s Viral status.

In two days, a Thursday, Sakurai Sho would be released from quarantine, and an NLM driver would bring him home. It was Nino’s job to ensure that Sakurai was able to get to work on Monday. His absence was already causing a slip in viewer ratings.

He used his two days of freedom to both settle in and get the place ready for Sakurai’s return. 

When the cleaning woman arrived, he introduced himself as a live-in medical professional who would be ensuring Sakurai’s continued recovery from malaria. The woman had bought the lie immediately, crushing Nino’s hand between hers and shaking vigorously. “Please take care of Sho-kun,” she’d said. “He’s such a kind young man.”

He sprawled ungracefully across Sakurai’s sofa and watched clips of Zero News segments, seeing what they might reveal about his new roommate. The topics weren’t always interesting. Politics. Disaster reporting. Even more politics. But Sakurai Sho came across as smart and knowledgeable, but not to the point that he seemed arrogant. He had a good rapport with the others on the news team. He had a cheerful laugh during the less serious parts of the broadcast but could switch back to solemn in an instant. Admittedly he was easy on the eyes, so after consuming a few hours of news, Nino at least understood why people were a little bit in love with him.

Despite the secretive nature of his assignment and Jun’s assurances that the Virals under his watch would be fine without him, Nino had to talk to someone. Someone he didn’t work with and not someone associated with JTV. The night before Sakurai’s arrival, he finally dialed.

His call was answered just before it went to voicemail. Typical. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He was once again sprawled across Sakurai’s sofa. It was going to be difficult to share once the actual owner was home again. “Guess where I am.”

Silence. Typical.

“If I look out the window, I can see Tokyo Tower. I’m on the 34th floor of a building.”

“Cool.”

After knowing the guy for five years, Nino was used to rather short answers from Ohno Satoshi. He was used to driving the conversation himself. “I can’t tell you exactly where I am or why I’m here. But I’m on a top secret assignment. I have to keep my eye on someone for a while, and they haven’t given me an end date. So I’m not going to be able to come by anymore. At least not until I’m done babysitting this person.”

“Ah. Right. Satomi was saying.”

“They say who they’re going to have check in with her instead while I’m gone?”

“Some woman.”

He snorted. “Helpful.”

Most people couldn’t understand how Ohno Satoshi had convinced Ishihara Satomi to marry him in the first place. He was a quiet, simple guy and very set in his ways. He worked in a small factory that made and packaged boxed lunches that were sent to convenience stores. In comparison, Satomi was a former model turned fashion magazine editor. Glamorous, beautiful, poised.

But Nino, of course, understood it. 

Satomi had been standing on a train platform, on her way home from a party just before midnight when she’d been attacked and bitten. A Kansai vampire had escaped, found his way to Tokyo. Ohno had been on his way in to work, had been the only other person on the platform within close range. Despite the vampire’s superior strength and size, Ohno had put himself in harm’s way and fought the guy off, managing to push him onto the tracks and into the path of an oncoming train.

“He was so fast,” Satomi always said with a dreamy look in her eyes. “Like a ninja.”

After that, Satomi had never left him. It was all very romantic, Nino thought, but of course Ohno didn’t see it that way. “She needed my help,” he usually said with a shrug. And unlike most people, Ohno didn’t mind that his girlfriend and eventual wife was a Viral. Ohno even let her drink his blood if she was in the mood for it.

Satomi was a Viral Nino had been assigned to monitor, but from the very start, she hadn’t really needed much help adjusting. That was all thanks to Ohno. Instead they’d struck up a friendship, the three of them, and Nino had grown close to Ohno in particular. When Nino needed another human to speak to, it was Ohno he called. It was Ohno who always understood, even if he didn’t say much.

“Are you going to miss me?” 

“Aren’t we talking right now?” Ohno mumbled.

Touche. “I have to live with this guy, Oh-chan. They want me watching him all day.”

“Sucks.” Which was Ohno Satoshi’s way of saying that he understood Nino’s preference for independence and need for work-life balance.

“Well, I just wanted to let you know.”

They chatted for a while longer - Ohno about some deadline that was driving Satomi into a bit of a thirsty mood lately, Nino about the swanky condo he’d be sharing for the foreseeable future. 

“I can’t screw this up, you know. This assignment’s a big deal,” he murmured, arm getting tired from keeping his phone to his ear. “This guy’s going to hate that I’m here. I don’t really enjoy when people hate me.”

“Could always let him have a sip. Maybe he’ll like how you taste and come around on you.”

Nino was quiet then. He’d been living in the guy’s condo for two days, had spent half that time watching video clips of him reporting on current affairs. Nino had acknowledged and begrudgingly accepted the fact that he was soon going to be living together with a person he found rather attractive. But only now did he stop to imagine Sakurai Sho putting that chatty mouth of his against his skin and having a drink from him.

It was forbidden by NLM of course, letting one of the people he monitored drink his blood. The practice was already frowned upon as it was, a cultural taboo. Nino certainly knew it. Most “civilized” Virals eased their thirst with bottled blood, with blood packs from hospitals. Going straight to the source was just too…vampire-y, even if fresh, warm blood apparently tasted best to them. There was an entire black market industry for Viral razors, though. Special blades to make a small, clean cut so a Viral could drink from you. No matter how “civilized” Japan thought it was, taboos were sometimes made to be broken.

“This is a job,” he reminded Ohno. Reminding himself at the same time. Sakurai Sho was a job. Sakurai Sho was his responsibility. Nothing more. No matter how handsome he was. 

“Okay. I’m just speaking from experience.”

“I’ll talk to you when I need a break from all this, alright?” 

“Cool.”

He smiled. “Bye, Oh-chan. Have a good night.”

He hung up, dumping his phone onto the table in front of the sofa. He got to his feet, heading over to the bookshelves. There was a framed photo at eye level, a picture of Sakurai Sho shaking hands with President Macron of France. For the first time in the two days he’d been here, he looked. Really looked. He looked more than he’d looked before. He looked very closely at Sakurai Sho and the plump, alluring mouth that had been attached to his face the whole time. Ohno’s suggestion repeated itself in his head. Over and over until he turned the picture face down.

“Great,” Nino said aloud to the empty condo. “I’m fucked.”

—

**iii. omurice**

He supposed that a “Welcome home, Sakurai-san!” banner would be inappropriate. Especially since they didn’t actually know one another. But Nino decided to at least put in a little effort. He’d gone with a button-down shirt instead of his usual well-worn t-shirts. He found a pair of jeans where any holes in them were fashionable rather than from years of wear and tear. He wore matching socks. He was ready to make as good a first impression as he could, all things considered.

The NLM driver had called him an hour earlier that morning, informing him that they’d just left the special quarantine facility at the airport and were on their way. If Sakurai Sho had been bitten in Japan, there were protocols in place. Standardized treatment to ensure that the Thirsting Virus would work its usual magic instead of killing the person. And of course standardized treatment for the wound itself. If someone got chomped on in a rather noticeable spot - the face, the stereotypical vampire bite to the neck - plastic surgery was usually suggested and much of it covered by the government. Viral status was that much of a stigma, which Nino thought was absurd.

Aiba Masaki had been bitten in the foot in a swimming pool when he was eight. Jun had gotten a bite to the shoulder walking home from baseball practice one day during junior high school. And Yuriko…well, Yuriko changed her answer every time somebody asked her. Knowing her, Nino mostly assumed it had been a kinky sex thing that had gotten out of hand. The people Nino monitored all had their own stories as well. Ishihara Satomi, known for her beautiful face, had thankfully not been attacked there. She’d gotten a neck bite that had left a pink scar that she usually just covered with makeup when she left the house.

But Sakurai Sho had been attacked outside of the country. Protocols were different. Treatment in the immediate aftermath could be different. Some Japanese people bitten overseas never bothered to come home because their changed status was too obvious. Fortunately for him Sakurai had the benefit of working for a wealthy media conglomerate. As soon as he’d been cleared to leave the hospital in New Delhi, he’d been flown home for continued treatment. Nino assumed Sakurai hadn’t been bitten in the face, or JTV would probably have had to come up with a different excuse than malaria to explain his absence.

He didn’t know what had happened, but both Jun and Mao-san had made it pretty clear that Sakurai wasn’t adapting well. Nino could at least understand it. Being physically attacked was traumatizing enough. Getting attacked overseas in your hotel room by a vampire? Probably a lot more to process. The added pressure of appearing on television every night likely didn’t help either. 

He paced the living room for a while, nervous. He wasn’t usually nervous about having a new person to monitor, but then again, Nino had never had to live with any of them before. He turned the TV on. He turned it back off. He played a game on his phone for a while. He considered just getting up and leaving, giving Sakurai an hour to settle in on his own. But that wasn’t possible, given how badly JTV wanted Nino to be up his ass at all hours of the day.

Finally, he heard a key turn in the front door lock, and he sprang to his feet, shoving his phone in his back pocket. He kept his arms stiffly at his sides as he heard some keys get tossed onto the small table in the genkan. He heard the wheels of a rolling suitcase on the hardwood floor. And then he was there, tugging the suitcase with one hand, holding a duffel bag with the other.

Nino had only seen clips of the Sakurai Sho who appeared on Zero News. Hair neatly trimmed, eyes bright. Suit and tie. The person who’d come back from India and from the Narita quarantine hadn’t shaved in a week, maybe more. The dark hair that had sprouted above his lips and on his chin and cheeks only made his skin look more pale. He was wearing a baseball cap, which barely hid the dark purple circles under his eyes. He looked a bit raccoon-like. And there was no suit and tie. Instead he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, clad in a short-sleeved white t-shirt with a colorful breast pocket and a pair of red sweatpants. He was barefoot now after leaving whatever shoes he’d worn in the genkan.

His voice was scratchy, deeper than how he sounded on the news. “Hi,” he said, shoulders slumped. “I’m Sho.”

“Ninomiya Kazunari. NLM.” He fidgeted a little, scratching his arm. “I have my badge if you want to see my ID.”

“No, that’s alright. They showed me a photo of you.”

He inclined his head. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

“No offense, but I wish we weren’t meeting at all.”

He looked up in surprise, but Sakurai was already dragging his suitcase in the direction of his bedroom. Nino had only known the polite, well-mannered news celebrity he’d watched the last few days. The person who’d walked in the door was definitely not the same man.

“Do you need anything? Is there anything I can help with right now?”

“No. I’m going to take a shower.”

Nino waited patiently, playing more games on his phone as he listened to Sakurai move around the condo. He heard the shower go on and then off a short time later. He heard the squeak of wet feet as he moved back to his bedroom and closed the door. An hour passed, and Nino finally got up, feeling like the executives at JTV were breathing down his neck.

He knocked lightly on the door. “Sakurai-san?”

No response.

Nino took a breath and opened the door. The blinds had been drawn, but he hadn’t pulled the curtains shut and there was enough daylight leaking through. The duffel bag and suitcase had been dumped on the floor along with a bath towel. Sakurai Sho wasn’t asleep, but he was lying on his back in the middle of his king-sized bed, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression on his face. He hadn’t bothered to shave while he’d been in the bathroom, but he’d changed into a different white t-shirt with a colorful pocket and gray pajama bottoms.

“Sakurai-san?”

“Is this going to be a thing with you? Barging into my room?”

He was used to stubborn folks not wanting him to come into their apartments, so admittedly he’d heard worse in his life. But it didn’t make him feel any better.

“Sorry,” he said. “But I want to make sure everything’s alright.”

“I’ve had doctors and nurses poking me for the last two weeks, asking me how I’m feeling. I’ve had psychiatrists asking me if I’m alright too. I don’t really feel like continuing that here at home if you don’t mind.”

Nino leaned against the doorframe. “Then I’ll ask more specific questions. Are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

“When’s the last time you ate? What did you eat?”

Sakurai offered an irritated sigh, but obviously knew Nino wasn’t going to budge. “Just after 7:00. Tamago kake gohan.”

“The cleaning service threw out everything in the refrigerator since you’ve been gone so long, but apparently there wasn’t much in there to begin with. Your cabinets are a little bare too. Your kitchen alone is the size of the apartment I live in, but it doesn’t seem like you use it much so I only bought a few things at the store to start.”

“I’m never home.”

“Okay. Well as I’m sure the staff at the hospital told you, you still need to eat properly regardless of the virus’ less appealing requirements. So what would you like for lunch?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t feel like making nothing,” Nino said, unwilling to compromise. These situations needed tough love. “But I’m not bad at omurice.”

Sakurai lifted himself a little, leaning on his elbows to stare Nino down. “You cook?”

“From time to time. Now is one of those times, but don’t assume it’s part of my job in looking out for you.”

“I wasn’t assuming anything.”

“Look,” he said quietly. “I know this is hard. I know you just want to be left alone. Unfortunately your employer sees things differently, and you’re stuck with me for the time being. Believe me, I have other things I’d rather be doing too. So I’m going to do my best to keep out of your way, but only if you behave.”

“Behave, huh? I’m thirty-seven years old,” Sakurai said with a weak laugh. “Not a kid.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re a baby. We’re called New Life Monitors for a reason. I’m here to help you adjust to a brand new life. You’re only thirty-seven again when I say you are.”

“You’re strict.”

“I know. But it’s for your own good.” He straightened up, hands on his hips as he stared Sakurai Sho down. “Now I’ll ask you again. What would you like for lunch?”

Sakurai’s gruff expression softened a bit. “Omurice sounds good. Thank you.”

—

**iv. a prescription**

When Nino announced that lunch was ready about an hour later, Sakurai told him to leave a plate for him on the desk in his bedroom. In response, Nino set the plate down at the dining room table. It took a few minutes, but Sakurai eventually emerged, approaching the table with a wary look. Though they’d only just met, he seemed offended that Nino had already started eating without him.

“I was hungry.”

The chair scraped the floor as Sakurai pulled it out, sitting down in what could only be described as a childish huff. His hair was messy from being in bed, and it only made him look younger anyway. 

Cuter, too.

“Thank you for the food.”

But then Sakurai paused, fork raised.

“No ketchup?”

Nino had another bite first, enjoying the taste. He hadn’t been lying when he told Sakurai his omurice wasn’t bad. “Didn’t know if you wanted anything red on your plate.”

“Ah. I think I can handle ketchup.” When Nino didn’t make an effort to move, Sakurai realized that part was on him. “I’ll be right back.”

Nino hid a smile as Sakurai got up with another immature noise of irritation, going to the refrigerator for his ketchup. Once he’d returned, squirting on an ample amount, he had a bite. Chewed. Looked up and gave Nino a look he couldn’t decipher. And then he started to gobble it down like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

Hospital food probably wasn’t all that great, so Nino didn’t want to presume he’d made a real breakthrough. But if there was one thing he’d learned in his life, it was that a home-cooked meal could make even the grouchiest person come around.

Eventually Sakurai remembered to breathe again, taking a break to chew his food. He looked up, swallowing. “So.”

Nino cocked his head. “So.”

Sakurai looked like he wanted to ask a thousand questions. Befitting of a newscaster. But the first one that came out was not what Nino was expecting.

“You married?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“Are you married, Ninomiya-san?”

“No. I’m not.”

“Dating someone?”

“Not at the moment.”

“I see.” Sakurai had a sip of water. “I figured they wouldn’t force a married person to do a job like this. Living here full-time, I mean. When someone’s waiting for them at home.”

“This is a pretty unusual assignment for us,” he replied. “Generally we just do home visits the first few months after someone contracts the virus, make sure everything’s going ok. The visits continue if the person isn’t an adult yet. Or if they prefer the face-to-face connection, but some people are ok with just a phone call to check in.”

“How often is it normally?”

“At least once a week. There have been times when I’ve gone to visit people at least once a day, but that’s usually for the younger ones. We try to explain to them why it’s a good idea to keep their changed condition a secret from their schoolmates. There’s enough bullying in schools as it is.”

“So JTV has decided that I’m in a more precarious situation than an elementary school student. Since they’ve made you move in here.”

Nino shrugged. “I’ve never had a big-time celebrity assignment before. Could be why they’re going above and beyond.”

Sakurai ate a bit more, but his plate was almost cleared already. “No. It’s probably because I don’t want to drink blood.” His voice was quieter then. “They had to force it down me in the quarantine.”

“It’s not a normal instinct. But you’ll come around in time.”

“I don’t think I will.”

Nino had heard that from lots of people. It’s disgusting, they always said. It’s wrong, they always said. But that didn’t matter. It really didn’t.

“I’m sure this was explained to you by all those doctors, but let me tell you again. There’s only two choices here, Sakurai-san. You drink it or you don’t. But if you don’t, that virus will kill you. Not by making you drop dead or anything, but it will kill _you_. The Sakurai Sho part of you that thinks and reasons. It will kill him in about 10 days if he doesn’t get any blood in him. And once that part of you is dead, it stays dead. All you will know is that thirst, and you’ll do whatever it takes to satisfy it. The government won’t allow that, they never do. They will hunt you down and they will kill the body you’ve left behind.”

Sakurai set down his fork, repulsed. Nino had seen that look before. He’d seen it and it broke his heart every time. Realizing the compromises that had to be made to keep one’s humanity intact.

“Ten more years, what’s that even worth?” Sakurai whispered. “I don’t want it.”

“I know.”

Sakurai’s eyes were red when he looked up, staring him down. “How could you?”

He felt the phantom pain, thought about the marks on his skin. What he’d done to get each one. But he tamped it back down. Pushed those memories away. It was only their first day together. They weren’t having that conversation today. 

“I just do. In this job, I get it.”

He let Sakurai finish eating before he spoke again.

“When’s the last time you had any?”

“Sunday.”

“Okay,” Nino replied. “Then you’ll have some on Sunday. Perfect timing since you’re back to work on Monday.”

Sakurai shook his head. “I can’t…”

“You will.”

Sakurai rolled his eyes, bitterly amused. “You’re a bit on the scrawny side, Ninomiya-san. No offense, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to force me. They had straps on the bed at the hospital. Big buff orderlies to keep me down.”

It had been a while since Nino had seen someone fight it so hard. He got up from the table, holding up a finger to tell Sakurai to hold on. He found the folder where he’d left it, shoved in the back of the dresser he was using in the guest bedroom. He went through the papers inside before finding what he needed and returning, setting it down in front of Sakurai.

He picked up Sakurai’s empty plate and silverware. “I’ll let you read that while I wash up.”

He felt awful as he stood at the sink, cleaning up the mess from lunch. He’d been forbidden from sharing anything in that folder with Sakurai, but he didn’t have the heart to keep this from him. The man was in the business of information, and maybe a little information would help him to understand just how serious his bosses were about keeping him alive, not letting the virus kill him.

It was a letter signed by both the Minister of Health, Labour and Welfare and the CEO of JTV Media authorizing Ninomiya Kazunari to fill the prescription that was paper-clipped to the letter if necessary. It was a prescription for a heavy sedative, strong enough to knock someone out for hours. The letter authorized Nino to drug Sakurai Sho if that was what it took to get blood inside him, to ensure the Thirsting Virus was kept at bay.

Sakurai had set the papers aside when Nino returned, his cheeks stained with tear tracks. 

“As you can see, I haven’t filled that prescription. And I don’t plan to. But I need you to know that they have expectations of me. And expectations of you.” He paused for a moment. “I didn’t put anything in the omurice, I swear.”

“That paper says for your eyes only. Why show it to me?”

“Because we have to live together here, and I don’t want to lie to you. And also…I mean, did you read it? That’s despicable. I did not get into this line of work so I could drug people without their knowledge or consent.”

Sakurai looked up at him, and Nino could finally see the slightest bit of understanding in his teary brown eyes. He knew that he’d have to come around. He absolutely knew. But that didn’t make it any easier. 

“I don’t want it, Ninomiya-san.”

Nino approached him, moving to rest a hand on his shoulder. “I know. But let’s try on Sunday. That gives you the rest of today and then tomorrow and Saturday to not have to do it.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good.”

“Is it alright if I go lie down?”

Nino gave him a friendly pat and let go. A shared meal had already changed the dynamics between them, hadn’t it? Sakurai was asking permission to take a nap in his own home. But he chose not to point that out to him.

“Since you cleared your plate, you’ve earned the right to go be miserable in your room for the rest of the day. It’s fine by me since I’ve got a few levels I want to clear in my game before dinner.”

Sakurai raised an eyebrow. “Your game?”

“I have another controller if you ever want to play.”

“You’re going to be an interesting roommate aren’t you, Ninomiya-san?”

“You can just call me Nino. Everybody else does.”

“Does that make me ‘Saku’ then?”

He shook his head. “You don’t look like a Saku. No offense. I may be living here, but technically you’re still my work assignment. How about Sho-san then? I’m sure Sakurai-san would be the most proper choice, but I do feel a bit closer to you since I’ve already been using that fancy toothpaste you’ve got in the bathroom.”

Sakurai snorted. “Terrific.”

He pulled the horrible letter and prescription off the table, out of sight. “So long as you give me your Wi-fi password, we’ll get along just fine. I’ve been stealing from your neighbor until now, and their connection sucks.”

As he walked away from the table, he actually earned a laugh. Not the cheerful ones Nino had heard from the news broadcasts he’d watched, but a laugh just the same. 

Progress.

—

**v. options**

By Saturday, they’d already learned how to work around one another. It was clear that they were both not morning people, but Nino forced himself awake before 9:00 each day, making a pot of coffee and pairing it with rice and miso soup or some toast. Nothing fancy. He didn’t want Sho thinking he was a personal chef on top of everything else. But Sho seemed grateful for whatever Nino made. It was obvious that the guy never did much cooking for himself, relying on catered meals at work or take-out, given the sheer number of menus Nino found in a kitchen drawer.

Sho had spent the first few days home in and out of bed, working on his laptop. He seemed glad that he’d be getting back to work soon, had presumably been catching up on everything he’d missed in his absence back at the station. Nino didn’t have to force him to eat, so it seemed like his normal appetite was returning. And it was a healthy appetite for that matter, too. He ate almost twice the amount of food Nino did. 

They chatted during meals, getting to know one another a bit, but mostly left one another alone the rest of the day. The topic of blood had been carefully avoided. Instead Nino had asked about the snow globes, and Sho spent most meals they shared talking about a few of them. The news assignment he’d done in that place or the vacation he’d taken there. He’d been all around the world, had lots of happy memories tied up in each of those souvenirs. Nino wasn’t that jealous of the traveling, homebody that he was, but once Sho really got talking, he became a different person. Or more like he returned to the person he’d likely been before the attack in India. Enthusiastic. Funny. A good storyteller.

The man that captivated so many news audiences across the country. The smile that made so many women (and likely quite a few men) swoon.

Maybe this live-in assignment wouldn’t last as long as the bigwigs at JTV had anticipated, if only Nino could keep finding ways to bring out that version of Sho and not the man he’d seen that first day, crying at the thought of drinking blood and not accepting the way the virus had changed him.

Sho also put effort back into grooming. He showered every morning, took a bath to relax in the evening. He’d shaved, looking a bit more like the guy from the news again. On Saturday morning he announced that he was going to his usual barber a few subway stops away. Nino went along, but kept his distance - standing at the other end of the train car, waiting in the cafe across the street until Sho was done. 

Nino really got a sense of Sho’s celebrity power when they were standing on the platform to head back to the condo in Akasaka. One person approached, shyly asking for a handshake. Before too long, there were ten people around Sho asking for handshakes of their own, asking when he was coming back to the news. They knew he’d been sick, had been praying for his recovery.

He wanted to intervene, to be the personal assistant he was technically pretending to be, to pull Sho away from all the strangers demanding his attention before it became too overwhelming. But he was surprised by how happy it seemed to make him to be recognized. A sociable guy like Sakurai Sho had been hidden away at Narita all those days, poked and prodded. Back here in Tokyo, back among the crowds, he seemed to be happier, no matter the demand for handshakes or autographs.

Three trains passed before Sho finally had to apologize and let the crowd of well-wishers know he had to go. He boarded, waving farewell, and Nino boarded at the opposite end, watching him closely. As soon as the train pulled away, he could see the change come over him so quickly. His posture changed and he slumped down, clinging tight to the plastic ring he was holding on to. 

Nino followed him back to the condo, Sho tapping his keycard at the entryway and then again for the elevator. They rode up to the not-quite-top floor together in silence. Nino could see the war happening behind his eyes. People were counting on him. People were looking forward to his return. But the only way to do that was to go down a path he didn’t want to take. 

It was lunch time when they got back, Sho clumsily getting out of his sneakers and heading for his room, closing the door decisively in a way he hadn’t done since his return home on Thursday. Nino frowned, knowing he was being asked to keep out. He ordered in Chinese food, packed away plenty for Sho to heat up when he was hungry again. He kept the door to his bedroom open, losing himself in games until long after darkness fell. He’d only heard Sho come out once to pee and then he’d gone back into his room.

Aiba called around 9 PM.

“Hey there, Mister Top Secret,” Aiba teased. “Are you able to come out tonight?”

From the sound of Disney music in the background, it was clear that Aiba was spending the evening at Zip, a bar owned by his best friend, a Disney superfan and fellow Viral named Kazama. 

“Didn’t Jun-kun tell you I have to stay with my assignment?”

“Well yeah, but Kaza-pon’s got this alcoholic take on a Dole Whip tonight as a special drink order…”

“Thanks for the tempting invite, but I’ve gotta stay in.”

“So you’re really living with someone? What’s wrong with them?”

“Nothing’s wrong with this person,” he shot back immediately. “But even if there was I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Ah, it’s boring without you at the office, you know. You’ve missed a few 2 days, but there was a 4 yesterday. Jun-kun has Louis Vuitton slide sandals.”

“And what makes seeing his hairy toes in sandals a 4?”

“You just had to be there, Nino-chan. He really pulled it off.”

He smiled despite himself. He’d missed hearing Aiba’s voice. Missed hearing about the office. It hadn’t even been a full week yet, but he already felt disconnected from them since all his time was devoted to making sure Sho ate and slept and didn’t sneak out of the condo to run away. Well, that and gaming.

“Who’d they find to replace me? Hopefully someone shitty so management will see how integral I am to the operation.”

“Her name is Eikura-san, she’s easy to get along with. Unlike you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“For one, she laughs at my jokes.”

“Your jokes are terrible, Aiba-shi. I think she’s just humoring you.”

He heard a playful little growl over the line. “See, this is what I’m talking about.”

“You love me,” Nino protested.

He heard kissy noises this time, and he wondered how many alcoholic Dole Whips Aiba had already ingested. “Yes, I do love you very much.”

“Have fun with Kaza-pon. Tell Yuriko I’m having too much fun on my secret assignment to miss her.”

“I’ll tell her exactly that. Bye bye.”

“Bye.”

He looked down at his phone, still smiling.

“Someone you work with?” He jumped, scared half to death at Sho’s words. He looked over, saw Sho was standing in the doorway. He seemed in better spirits than he’d been when he’d come back from the barber. He still looked tired, but Nino supposed that could also be from the late hours he kept while he worked. “Sorry.”

He shook his head, chuckling. “It’s alright, I didn’t hear you.”

“You startle easily.”

“I do.”

Sho looked down, his face a little pink. “I, um, I had some questions for you. About my options.”

Nino knew exactly what he was referring to. “Oh?”

“I’m not committing to anything but I just…I like to have all the facts before I dive in to something.”

He got to his feet, setting his phone aside. “As expected of an award-winning journalist. Come on, I’ll tell you about it.”

They sat together on the sofa, Nino pulling up the website they used. Sho wouldn’t have known where to even look for it. He tried to concentrate even as Sho scooted over on the cushion, sitting closer so he could look at his screen. It had been easy to ignore the little crush he’d developed those first few days he’d been in the condo, watching video after video of Japan’s most eligible bachelor. It had been easy because Sho had been shut up in his room most of the time he’d been home.

But now he was here, in Nino’s space. Impossible to ignore. He smelled a little like deodorant and a little like whiskey. Nino often heard him pouring himself drinks before settling in on his laptop to work late in the evenings. He only listened in to make sure that Sho wasn’t pouring himself too many. Alcoholism rates among new Virals were higher than the rates among the general population.

“So this is BloodCo. They’re based in the UK. The Ministry of Health imports bottled blood directly from them. If they opened a factory or distribution center here it would probably be cheaper, but the government won’t budge on it. They don’t really want anyone to catch on or leak information about how much is going out. They really don’t want the public to know how many Virals there really are in the country.”

“And how many are there?” Sho asked instantly. “Are you allowed to tell me that?”

Nino looked over, meeting Sho’s eyes before glancing aside to his chin instead. “No, I’m not allowed to tell you that.”

“For real?”

He laughed, turning back to his screen. “Nah. You’re one of them now, you deserve to know about the community you’ve joined. Thirty-two thousand, give or take. You’d think Tokyo would have the most, but we don’t. There’s higher incidence rates near naval bases. Okinawa’s got more than you could imagine. We’ve got fifty people in the NLM there keeping an eye on folks. Sometimes Virals join up with the U.S. Navy but then they don’t like that we have far more restrictive laws about access to blood. They’re a bit more open about the Thirsting Virus in America, not as big a stigma. So coming here can feel oppressive. They don’t get what they need as often as they’re used to and their bodies can go a little haywire. Things can get a little messy from time to time.”

“That’s…how does nobody know about this?” Sho asked angrily. “They’re attacking our citizens?”

“The Prime Minister doesn’t want to piss off America, so the Ministry just works with the U.S. Navy leaders to cover it up, make sure the vampire sailors go missing at sea.”

Sho was still furious. “I don’t believe this…”

Nino put a hand on his arm. “It’s not just an issue with foreign people coming here. Sometimes Japanese Virals slip through the cracks too. Overall, rates are way down from what they used to be.”

Sho sighed, and Nino let him go before he got too comfortable touching him.

“Anyway. Back to BloodCo. I’ve placed a standing order for delivery. The Ministry of Health will ship three bottles a week here, and they’re packaged to look like protein drinks. Nothing about blood on them. See, look.” He pointed to his screen. “The bottles shipped to Japan look like anything you’d get in a convenience store. They’ll even have a flavor written on them. Chocolate…green tea…peach…”

“I don’t suppose they’re really flavored?” Sho asked.

“It’s…um…well, it’s code,” Nino admitted. “As Virals get accustomed to it, they might develop a preference for one blood type or another. Chocolate is O blood, green tea is AB…”

“I get the idea,” Sho mumbled, sounding uncomfortable.

“Anyhow. That’s your bottled option. They’ve been analyzing the virus for decades now, all around the world. The recommendation if you’re on bottled is three bottles a week. You get what you need with one a week, honestly, but the more you take in, the happier your virus is. The less you drink, the faster the virus starts to take charge. Like I told you, about 10 days without it is all it takes to push you over the edge. But the more you ingest, the longer that window becomes.”

Sho’s voice was shaky. “I see. And it’s…it’s all human, right?”

“Yeah. Animal blood is popular in some countries because it’s cheaper, but by and large the virus needs human blood to be…satisfied, if you’ll excuse how that sounds. The bottled stuff is not from a single donor, just a combination of that blood type with some added nutrients that make the virus happy. Your other options would be single donor, if that becomes your preference.”

“And how does that work?”

Nino navigated to another website. A hospital affiliated with Waseda University. “We can get blood packs from them. The cost is higher. The government subsidizes most of what they get from BloodCo, if only to give Virals an incentive to keep drinking it and stay healthy. But if you’re not into it, I just have to pop over to that hospital and buy what you like. A few of my regulars prefer single donor, so they know me over there already. No big deal.”

“No big deal,” Sho repeated, sounding disgusted. “So those are the only choices?”

“Well…”

“Well?”

“It’s frowned upon for a lot of reasons now. But um…I guess your other choice would be a willing donor.”

Sho was silent for a few moments before realization struck. “Oh…”

“This virus has been around for over a century now, Sho-san, and the bottled stuff was only developed in the 1950s. Think about it.”

“I will all the time now, thanks.”

He looked over, closing his laptop lid as he sensed Sho’s growing unease. “The first three bottles…they came yesterday when you were working. They sent me a text message so I was able to go pick them up in the lobby downstairs from the delivery service without disturbing you. I put them in the vegetable crisper in the refrigerator since um, since you don’t have any produce right now.”

“I see.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you until tomorrow.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“I’m a light sleeper,” Nino said. “I’ll know if you get up in the middle of the night to pour them down the drain. That stuff can clog, and some of the more stubborn people I’ve monitored over the years have found out the hard way. Arranging for a Viral plumber to keep it all hush hush from your landlord isn’t cheap, and the government’s not going to subsidize that.”

Sho looked embarrassed. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Fair enough, but you said you like to have all the facts so that’s why I’m telling you.”

“I…I just can’t believe all this stuff has been going on for years, and people don’t know about it. I sure didn’t know about it…”

“Well, that’s intentional,” Nino said quietly. “And now that you do know, you can’t tell anyone about what we do. What the government does. I know that will be especially hard for someone like you, given what your job is.”

Sho grimaced. “I’ve always thought of the Thirsting Virus in the abstract, you know. Something that existed, sure, but everybody’s just so good at…ignoring it. It’s like…it’s right in front of us, right in front of the Japanese people. A person walking down the street might have the virus, might be enduring all of what I’m feeling now. Shame. Disgust. Revulsion. They might be enduring all of that and only the person from the NLM, the person like you who monitors them…god, what if that’s the only other person in their life that they can really talk to about it? Everyone else in the country knows it’s there, but they just look right past it. Look right through that person and ignore it.”

Nino set the laptop down on the table, turning sideways a bit to look Sho straight on. “I’m sorry that you’re feeling those things. Shame and disgust and all that. I’m really sorry, and that’s the hardest part of this job. Trying to convince you that there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Do you need to drink blood? Yes. Does society say consuming it is dirty and gross? Yes, it does. But think of it as a treatment. Think of it as a medication. It’s a treatment that’s going to keep you with us. It’s a treatment that’s going to let you keep meeting your fans on a subway platform.”

Sho looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “If we were more open about all this, maybe I wouldn’t feel so disgusting now. Nino, if those people I shook hands with today knew that they’d been touched by a Viral…”

“They shook hands with Sakurai Sho,” Nino insisted. “Newscaster for JTV, a journalist who wants to keep them informed. A human being. Look. I may not have the Thirsting Virus, but I’m friends with many people that do. The people I work with. The people I work for. Everyone’s at a different step on the ladder of accepting who they are. It’s not something to easily overcome in a week or a month, but maybe someday you’ll be like that weird guy I was talking to on the phone earlier. He doesn’t let the stigma define him. And then my boss he…he feels responsible for living the best life he possibly can. Not everyone gets the extra time you all do when you contract it, so he wants to make sure he lives life fully. You’re not alone in this. I may not be enough to help you, to really help you, but I can introduce you to them someday if you want someone who really understands. They’re good guys. Good people.”

“Nino…” He could see teardrops falling, hitting Sho’s sweatpants. “I’ve always been a confident person, you know? I’ve always known who I am. The person I want to be. But for the first time, I’m scared to walk in the door on Monday. I’m scared that people are going to look at me and know. That the people I care about…my family, my friends, my colleagues…I’m worried that they’ll realize I’m hiding something from them. That I’m not the same Sho anymore. I’m worried that because of that I’ll lose them…”

He couldn’t keep from reaching out a hand, resting it on Sho’s knee. “I know we’ve only just met, but I’m here for you, okay? I’m here to listen.”

“Because the government pays you to watch people like me and keep us quiet. I’m just a job. I’m just another number to you.”

That stung, but only because it was true. He took his hand back, feeling his face grow hot. Nino remembered how the extra money had gone a long way toward helping him accept this assignment in the first place. But these last few days, seeing Sho struggle…Nino really did want to help him. He wanted Sho to get through this, no longer how long it took.

“Sho-san…”

“Your friend that called, your colleague…he was inviting you out, right?” Sho cleared his throat, wiping his eyes. “You should go.”

“I can’t…”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to pour that shit down the drain. And I’m not going to jump off the roof. I have work to do tonight, so can’t you just…look, I know it’s your job to stay here, but what would really make me happy right now is if you left for a few hours. Can I please just be alone for a while? Please?”

He nodded. “If that’s what will make you happy, then ok.”

“Thank you,” Sho replied, voice unsteady.

Nino got off the sofa, grabbing his phone and wallet from the guest bedroom. “You’ve got my number if you need anything. I’ll be back later.” He called back over his shoulder as he laced up his sneakers in the genkan. “I ordered in Chinese for lunch, so you better eat those leftovers. I can trust you to work the microwave?”

“Yeah, I know how to work a microwave.”

“I’m off then.”

“See you later.”

He could have called Aiba, gone to Kaza-pon’s bar. But Aiba would tell Jun, and Jun would tell Koizumi-san and then Nino might get reprimanded. Perhaps even reprimanded with an exclamation point. He simply sighed, buying a few snacks and a can of beer from the convenience store around the corner, walking to a park in the neighborhood and having a seat on a bench. If he looked up and to his left, he could see the lights on in the condo on the 34th floor, just below the top floor.

He cracked open the beer and loaded up his game, squinting in the darkness and trying not to contemplate how much his life had changed in only a week.

—

**vi. peach**

Sho had still been awake when Nino returned, the light from his bedroom visible under the door. Nino left him alone and continued to leave him alone for most of Sunday, if only because he could hear Sho walk back and forth from his bedroom to the bathroom or from the bedroom to the kitchen, could hear the microwave ping as more of the Chinese leftovers disappeared into Sho’s stomach.

Tomorrow Sho would go back to work, and Nino would take an official break. While Sho was doing his news guy business, Nino was going to pester Oh-chan for a while. He had Mondays off from the factory, so they’d go for ramen. A hole-in-the-wall joint that Ohno really loved but was too embarrassed to bring his wife, so Nino was always an acceptable substitute.

But before any of that could happen, Sakurai Sho needed to drink one of the bottles sitting in the refrigerator. Nino had already given Sho most of the day to himself to be the workaholic that he so clearly was. But once the sun went down, there were only so many hours left for Sho to come into the kitchen willingly. If Sho was going to be on TV the following night, he needed to drink. The longer he waited, the easier it would be to tip over the edge. Quite frankly, letting him go this long so soon after being infected with the virus was risky enough. But Nino had set a deadline, and he knew that reporters were obsessed with their deadlines.

Around 9 PM he finally shut down his console. His back ached from being hunched over most of the day, and he heard his knees crack as he got up. He went to the bathroom and then headed for the kitchen, having a seat on top of the countertop. He made sure he was extremely conspicuous.

Sho came out, obviously in search of a snack, around 9:15. He found Nino still sitting on the countertop, staring him down.

“I have a headache,” Sho admitted, speaking to Nino for the first time all day. “I…I’ve had one since last night. I had it even when I told you to leave.”

“That’s the virus,” Nino told him. “It’s thirsty. And it will hit you fast if you don’t do something about it.”

“Is it possible to just do Sundays?” Sho asked, sounding scared. “My head is killing me. I can’t focus on work. I…I’m scared of some of the thoughts I’m having…”

“What thoughts are those?”

Sho looked away, crossing his arms. “They’re not pleasant ones, that’s all I’ll say.”

Sho wanted to take a bite out of someone. Anyone. It was obvious from the change in him physically, how quickly it had manifested in him since the night before. His pupils were huge, his skin was clammy. His body was tense, as though any moment he might burst into a run. This was how bad it was after seven days. Tomorrow…tomorrow it would just get worse. That Sakurai Sho couldn’t do the news, and he certainly seemed to realize it.

Unlike in the movies, those infected with the Thirsting Virus didn’t grow fangs to help them puncture someone’s skin. No, they just bit until they drew blood from wherever they could get it. Nino could see that intent in Sho, even though he was scared. Even though he was trying so hard to tamp it down. The predator that the virus could unleash. The loss of reason. The loss of self.

“They provided me with an abbreviated copy of your medical history,” Nino said calmly. “Your blood type is A.”

“Right.”

“Well, those with the virus tend to crave something similar. Most prefer the taste of the blood they already have. It would be easy if you could just have a sip of yourself from time to time, but it doesn’t work that way unfortunately. So two out of the three bottles in the refrigerator say ‘Peach’ on them. That’s type A blood. But I have worked with some people who drink anything, so there’s also a ‘Strawberry’ in there if you want to try it. It’s B. If you don’t want either of those options, give me about an hour, two tops. I can go to the hospital and get you something fresher than the bottled stuff. But you’ll feel like shit the whole time I’m gone and it’ll get worse, I guarantee it.”

“Nino, I want to throw up,” Sho admitted, almost hugging himself in his fear.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know I don’t have a choice,” he muttered. “My head is telling me that, my body is telling me that…”

“You asked me if it’s possible to just do Sundays. The answer to that is yes,” Nino told him, slowly easing himself down from the countertop. “But that means you’re probably going to keep getting headaches on Saturdays, feeling like shit all day on Sundays until you drink. Everyone’s virus has its own timing, and this is yours. It might change in time as you get used to drinking. Or it might not.”

Sho looked awful. “I have to drink the whole thing in one go?”

“No. It’s…well, it’s kind of like the consistency of a milkshake, so that slows you down…I know that makes it sound even less appealing, and I’m sorry…”

“The Peach,” Sho finally blurted out. “I’ll…I’ll try…”

“Okay, Sho-san. Coming right up. You’ll feel better once you do, I promise.”

He tried not to let his hands shake as he opened the refrigerator door, opening the crisper drawer and taking out one of the “Peach” bottles. He set it down on the counter between them, Sho on one side, Nino on the other.

“You can drink it straight from the bottle cold. Or I could pour it in a mug and warm it up in the microwave. I could do it half and half if you want, just so you can determine what you prefer.”

“Keep it in the bottle for now…I don’t want to see it poured out.”

“Okay.” Nino tugged open the drawer, pulling out a bottle opener, using it to pop off the top. The smell wasn’t as overt as it was straight from a blood pack. But he imagined things smelled differently to a Viral. He slid the bottle across to him. “I’m going to watch to make sure you drink all of it. I’m sorry for that too, but it’s…”

“…your job. I get it.” Sho uncrossed his arms, leaning forward to brace himself against the countertop. He took a few deep breaths, struggling to focus. Nino understood that Sho’s next words weren’t directed at him, but at himself. “This doesn’t change who I am. This doesn’t change who I am.”

It broke Nino’s heart to hear it, but Sho’s bravery was truly touching. He could see the war within him, the way the virus had upended his life without warning.

“Take your time,” he said. “I’m right here.”

Sho nodded, reaching out a shaky hand and wrapping it around the cold bottle. Nino could see his nostrils flare, his eyes turning almost black with want. Of course Nino couldn’t smell it the way Sho could. Sho whose senses were more enhanced now, more alert now.

He lifted the bottle a few times, unable to bring it to his lips and setting it back down. He took a few more deep breaths, Nino watching him the whole time. It wasn’t easy to watch, but Nino refused to leave him. The more he learned about Sakurai Sho - about his drive, about the ways he inspired others through his work, about the person he’d been before everything had changed for him - the less this felt like a job. 

“I feel like a little kid who won’t eat broccoli,” Sho muttered, angry with himself.

Nino let him talk it out, stood there simply to be there for him. The thought of drinking the contents of that bottle? It made Nino nauseous. And yet he encouraged the people he monitored to do it all the time. 

He’d encouraged her, too. He’d encouraged her to drink, if only for his sake…

“Okay,” Sho said. “Okay.”

He brought the bottle to his lips and drank. Nino watched Sho’s grip on the bottle tighten. It wouldn’t take too much to break it, given his growing strength now that the virus had been in his system long enough. Sho’s eyes were shut tight, and Nino watched closely, torn between feelings of sympathy and darker impulses he was struggling to tamp down. As Sho continued to drink, Nino’s eyes were drawn to Sho’s neck, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, the way the top of the bottle pressed against his lips.

Sho took a break midway through, setting the bottle down and stepping away. Nino could see the unmistakable trickle of red at the corner of his mouth, knowing it was best not to point it out. Sho certainly knew it was there, would be able to smell it. 

What Nino didn’t expect was for Sho to suddenly look at him, staring at him with those almost black eyes, blood on his lips. With half the bottle gone, Sho’s body was starting to react to the blood after a full week deprived of it. Sho’s pointed gaze sent a wave of heat through Nino, his body reacting in a way that Sho could probably smell quite easily. He couldn’t move, and he felt lightheaded when Sho licked his lips, breathing heavily as he continued to stare. 

He wanted to whisper words of encouragement, the words that he’d normally say when faced with any other Viral he monitored. But he was paralyzed. Trapped. Didn’t know how to read that look in Sho’s eyes. He didn’t know why it was different with Sho than it was with any of the others he’d worked with, why after only a handful of days he’d been pulled in to Sho’s orbit, no different from any television viewer. 

Did Sho want to fuck him? Or drink from him? Or both? He couldn’t tell. And honestly, Nino was disturbed at the realization that both options had their appeal to some extent…

He cried out in shock, stumbling back against the fridge when his phone started to ring in the other room. It broke Sho’s stare, and he looked away in embarrassment, muttering something under his breath that might have been an apology.

“I…I’m going to…sorry, I’m going to go check that…”

He stumbled out of the kitchen, hurrying for his phone. So much for sticking around to make sure Sho finished the bottle. It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he answered anyway.

“He-hello…”

A gruff voice spoke. “Hello, is this Ninomiya-san? This is Ueda, Sho-san’s driver. I was given your number.”

He shut his eyes, trying to calm down. “Yes. Right. Right, this is Ninomiya.”

“I wanted to confirm tomorrow’s pick-up for 3:30 PM. I didn’t want to disturb Sho-san about it, so that’s why I’ve called you. How’s he doing?”

I think he wants to eat me, he almost said. And I’m tempted to let him.

“Good. He’s doing good. Eager to get back to work. 3:30 will be fine.”

“Roger that. Have a good night.”

“Good night.”

He hung up, taking a breath before heading back to the kitchen. The bottle was drained dry, and Sho was picking at the label with his fingernails.

“Sho-san, that was your driver Ueda-san. Confirming your pickup for tomorrow at 3:30.”

“Okay.” 

“You finish it all?”

Sho nodded.

“Tasted bad?”

Sho shook his head. No. No, it had probably tasted pretty damn good, which was why Sho looked miserable again. The virus was likely satisfied for the next handful of days, but he doubted Sho felt the same.

“I’m proud of you.”

Sho laughed quietly. “I don’t want to hear that sort of thing.”

“Okay. How about ‘good job’? Or ‘thanks for your hard work today’?”

This time when Sho turned to look at him, there was none of the intensity there’d been before the phone rang. He’d come back to himself, or at least the version of himself that Nino had been around since Thursday. God, it felt longer than that, but he supposed that was something that came with cohabitation. Something that came when emotions and stakes were high.

“I don’t…” Sho thought for a moment. “You know, I…I don’t really want to think about blood again until I have to, if that’s alright. I need to get back to work.”

“Of course,” he said, “not a problem. I’ll…I’ll make something to eat in the morning. If you want.”

Sho headed back in the direction of his room, hand patting Nino’s shoulder on the way. “Thanks.”

The bedroom door closed, shutting Sho away. And this time Nino felt his absence keenly. He shut his own door, contemplated calling Ohno. Telling him what had just happened, what he’d just felt. Did it ever feel like that with Satomi? Not now, but at the start of it all? At the start when they’d only just met? 

But that wouldn’t help, and he knew it. Because Ohno’s actual answer to the question didn’t matter. Ohno would tell him to think with his heart and not with his brain. To act on impulse, to forget the rules of his job. 

And that was the one thing Nino couldn’t do.

—

**vii. back to work**

The staff of Zero News welcomed Sho back to the studio with a small celebration, cake included. Nino stayed out of the way, standing in the back as Sho’s co-presenter on the late evening broadcast, Udo-san, urged him to give a speech to the gathered casters, crew, and other JTV employees who’d come to cheer him on.

Sho had been quietly babbling to himself on the ride over that afternoon, so Nino assumed he was more than prepared to address everyone with an “impromptu” speech anyway.

Inoue Mao found Nino trying to blend in to the background, greeting him quietly. “Everything going ok?”

“He got what he needed last night,” Nino replied after making sure no one else was paying any attention to them. “I think he’ll be fine for the next few days. He’s very happy to get back to work, but of course I’ll keep monitoring him for any issues.”

“You’ve done good work in only a short amount of time.”

He waved his hand. “I didn’t do anything. Sho-san has fighting spirit. That much I’ve learned already.”

“Very true. Anyhow. We’ll get you a proper badge tomorrow. I’m sorry about this, it’s been so hectic here,” Mao-san said, gesturing to the visitor’s lanyard around his neck. “Since Sho-san will be quite busy up to and during the broadcast, JTV has given you pretty free rein here. You’re welcome to relax in Sho-san’s green room. There are always drinks in there. They’ll bring a laptop for you so you can…well, do your best to manage things for him. He gets fan letters, offers to do endorsements, invitations for speaking engagements. That should fill much of your day. When you need a break, there’s an employee atrium and cafeteria on the 30th floor. You need only swipe your badge, and any food or snack items will be paid for by the network. No questions asked. Everyone will assume that money is deducting from an employee account.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

Mao nodded, smiling gently. “He looks fresh, doesn’t he?”

Nino had to admit that she was right. Sho wasn’t in the t-shirts and sweats that Nino had known from the last few days. He’d be wearing a proper suit and tie when it was time to go on air later that evening. But for now he was in a dress shirt and slacks, smiling as he spoke to the crew and thanked them all for their support. Much as he’d dreaded it, much as he’d hated it, getting down that bottle of blood had reinvigorated him. He’d gotten a proper night’s sleep as well. He wasn’t so sickly and pale. The raccoon eye effect had lessened considerably. Less for the stylists and makeup team to have to worry about.

He left Sho to do his Sho thing, which meant leaving him behind in the newsroom with all his colleagues so they could have their meetings, pull together the content for that night’s broadcast. Sho had worked almost non-stop since he’d been home, so he certainly had an idea of how he wanted to shape the program that week. With JTV people all around him, people whose livelihoods depended on the successful ratings of the broadcast, Nino didn’t feel like he had to watch Sho like a hawk. His dedication was obvious.

He also knew that it would be harder to keep a professional distance if he was around Sho any more than he already had been. So he put in a few hours in the green room, playing games on his phone and chit-chatting with a network executive who came in, welcoming him and assuring him that the tools he would need to perform his role as Sho’s personal assistant would be ready and waiting for him come the following day. Clearly the executive didn’t know about Sho’s condition.

He eventually left a message with Mao that he was going for dinner with Ohno.

They said very little to each other as they walked from his apartment to the restaurant. Ohno wasn’t naturally talkative to begin with, and Nino preferred to be on a full stomach before making any comments about his new life with Sakurai Sho, famous newscaster.

Ohno had just ordered a second batch of noodles when he finally turned to look at him. Really look at him. “This guy has you messed up already.”

“Shut up,” he replied, nibbling on a mushroom.

Ohno merely snorted, getting back to his food. 

They took the long way back, walking along the nearby river. Satomi was working late, so Ohno didn’t have anything better to do besides listen to Nino whine.

“It’s because you treated him like a game,” Ohno eventually decided.

“The hell does that mean?”

“Well, you said you watched all those videos of him. That’s like…that’s like reading a game’s strategy guide. Or um, what’s it called, getting a level out. But you’re the character. You know, you’re the one who got the experience points and leveled out.”

“I think you mean leveled up, Oh-chan.”

“Whatever. But like…you’re obsessed with games. And if you treat a person like one, knowing you and how you are, you end up getting equally obsessed. Like, instantly.”

“I am not obsessed with a person I only met on Thursday.”

“Only met on Thursday but watched how many hours of video about him before that?”

Nino was silent.

“It’s because I said let him bite you, and then you started approaching that like an achievement to unlock.”

Nino leaned over, jostling Ohno hard. “Look at you trying to lecture me on how games work when the last game you ever played was Wii Bowling with your mom and dad and that weird guy your dad works with.”

“We had fun that time,” Ohno replied defensively.

They were quiet again for a while before Nino started rambling.

“I’m getting paid a lot of money to make sure this guy drinks blood and comes to terms with his new life. That’s literally my job, Oh-chan. Acting impulsively is kind of the opposite of the NLM mantra. It’s all about gradual acceptance of Viral status. Developing coping mechanisms. Finding healthy outlets for the stress of keeping it secret. Getting blood in you on a regular basis, safely and discreetly and without flouting cultural norms. It’s not about…it’s not about taking advantage of someone. Because that’s what it would be, you know. I told him I’d be there for him. That he could rely on me.”

“And that’s only possible in a professional way? You told me how he looked at you.”

“Did you miss the part where I said I’m getting paid to do this? To live with him and help him? It doesn’t matter how he looks at me. And besides, he was drinking blood at the time. He wasn’t in a coherent state of mind. He probably didn’t even realize what was happening.”

“Nah, I don’t think that’s true. Sa-chan’s really hot when she’s thirsty, and she always makes her intentions quite clear…keeps things fun…”

“This is information I do not need from you ever.”

Ohno chuckled merrily. “Ah, you sure do have a rough life, Nino. Getting paid to live with a good-looking guy. Living in his fancy house. Hanging out at TV studios…”

“Speaking of that horrible burden, I’d better be getting back there so I can suffer some more.”

He bid Ohno farewell, heading back across town. The visitor lanyard got him back into JTV, and he slid open the door to Sho’s green room only to find Sho himself drinking some barley tea at the table, the room’s small TV tuned in to the currently airing JTV program.

“Oh hey, you’re back.”

“Hey,” he replied, closing the door behind him. “How are you settling back in?”

“Well, four different crew people bought mosquito nets for me as welcome back presents, so if you’d like one, I’ve got extra.”

“Good to know.”

Sho stretched a little, his shirt coming a bit untucked from his slacks. Nino looked away, moving to peruse the drink bottles that the station staff had left in the room. “No, it’s good to be back,” he said. “You know, I think a big part of what’s had me so down is that I wasn’t working. I didn’t have that to suck up all my time, so it certainly didn’t help.”

“How are you feeling? Still ok after last night?”

Sho nodded. “Yeah. I’m…well, I’m not looking forward to doing it again, but I guess it will get easier in time.”

“It will.”

“So what have you been up to? Mao-chan said you went to dinner with a friend.”

“Yeah, went for ramen with a buddy of mine. You’d like him, if you find stubborn people charming.”

“I do, actually. They’re fun to talk to, debate with. I like trying to understand people who absolutely refuse to budge on things.”

Nino grinned. “Then yeah, you’d definitely like this guy.”

Sho had another sip of tea. “I’m stubborn too, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“No comment.”

Nino received a hearty laugh in reply. It made him feel warm inside, a cheesy feeling that Ohno would notice and snicker about.

“Well,” Sho said, checking his fancy watch. “I’ve got a final meeting about tonight’s broadcast in ten minutes. After that I get changed and go to hair and makeup. You don’t have to watch any of that, it’s boring. And I know just sitting in here is probably boring too. I’m sorry, I really am, that they expect you to come here with me every day…honestly, I…I don’t see why they need you to keep such a close eye now that I’m back to work…now that I drank…that…”

Nino tried to distract Sho away from his clear discomfort. “One of the network executives dropped off a stack of fanmail addressed to you, so even if you don’t need me in my actual monitoring capacity, I can still help weed out all the creepy ones in my fake personal assisting capacity.”

“You really don’t have to…”

“If I don’t, then I’m just a weird guy hanging around you, and that’s harder to explain. So don’t worry about it.”

“Alright, well. I’ll see you again after our wrap-up meeting. Sorry you have to be here so late. That cabinet over in the corner has a futon and pillows. I’ve pulled all-nighters here before during elections or the Olympics, so that stuff is always in here if I need it.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you later.”

He was alone again, imagining Sho off at his meeting. Getting put in a fancy suit, getting his hair styled, his face powdered or whatever they did to keep him from getting too sweaty and shiny under the hot studio lights. He went through the stack of mail, which he’d been told was only a fraction of what had come in while Sho was “out sick.” It was remarkable how many people cared enough about a guy who read the news. The letters came from people of all ages, men and women, elderly and college students alike.

This was why Sho had managed to find the courage to down that bottle of blood the night before, Nino knew. It was because these people relied on him, trusted him to tell the truth, tell them what was going on in the world. That was what had Sho so off-kilter. He was used to people putting their faith in him. But now, because of that virus, he’d never be able to show his whole, true self on air again. There’d always be a part of him that he’d have to hold back. No wonder it was tearing him up inside.

By the time he’d gotten through the first batch of letters, had tossed the creepiest ones in the room’s recycling can, it was just about 11:00 PM.

He turned up the volume on the TV as the now-familiar music started to play. And then there was Sho, standing alongside the rest of his team, bowing to the audience and bidding them a good evening. Udo-san turned to Sho with a smile. “Sakurai-san, it’s your first night back. We’re so glad you’re healthy again!”

Nino saw no hesitation as Sho offered a gentle but confident reply. “It’s been hard to be away from the Zero News family, but I’m back and I’m grateful for the privilege of getting to report the news alongside this team.” 

Sho then turned to the camera, smiling that winning smile. You’d never know the guy had spent the last few days fighting himself, grappling with some hard truths.

“And to you, the viewers at home across Japan. Thank you for your prayers and your well-wishes. It’s because of you, all of you, that I’m able to stand here once more. Thank you for your support.” He bowed low, the other casters joining him before they straightened up again. Sho’s smile was brighter than ever, confident and poised. “But that’s enough about me. Now let’s get to the real headlines.”

—

**viii. one step forward, two steps back**

Nino was surprised by how easily they fell into a routine. What had seemed so strange only a few weeks earlier - moving into a complete stranger’s home - now seemed normal. Nino wasn’t used to living with other people anymore. He hadn’t shared with anyone since he’d been living at home. But he found himself adapting to Sho’s busy schedule quite well. 

Since Sho spent all of the afternoon and evening at the JTV studio on weekdays, he filled his mornings and the handful of hours before Ueda-san the driver arrived with the rest of the things he needed to do. Going to the bank. Meeting up with friends for lunch. Shopping. Nino preferred to stay home, have most things delivered. Sho was the opposite. He hated being cooped up in the house, so he’d go out for the smallest things. To the bakery around the corner for a slice of cheesecake. A quick walk to a different mailbox to drop off some bills, if only to get some exercise.

The sort of thing that normally annoyed Nino, but it helped that all he had going on in his life at the moment was to be around Sho day in and day out. They ate together. Watched TV together. Talked about everything and nothing together. Did their laundry together. The other night they’d even gone for karaoke, having a few beers and finding that they had a few favorite songs in common. They were very different people, but so far they got along.

Every outing, no matter how big or small, was an opportunity to get to know the guy a little better. Not just as someone to have an inappropriate crush on, but a real person with a life and a history. Some celebrities went out in baseball caps or disguises, but Sho just walked around in broad daylight unbothered, not minding when people came up to greet him. He chatted cheerfully with the old woman at the fruit market, with the clerk at his usual convenience store, with mothers and young children in the neighborhood that he knew from being out and about in the mornings.

Nino hung back in most situations, not wanting to be a bother. Not wanting to interfere in Sho’s business. When Sho met up with friends, he arrived later and sat at another table out of the way. On the fifth Saturday they’d been living together, Sho met up with a handful of university friends. For the first time, Nino didn’t even bother to go with him. But sometimes on their walks he got pulled in. “This is Ninomiya-san, he’s been helping me out while I’ve recovered.” And everyone was polite and friendly, thanking him for helping Sho. Sho was very careful, never saying who Nino actually was. It was the people he was talking to who could draw their own conclusions, and he assumed most thought he was a live-in nurse.

At the TV studio, Nino spent most of his time writing thank you letters to all the people who’d written in to Sho. He then printed them out, and Sho personally signed every single one on the car ride back to Akasaka while he and Masuda the driver caught up on things.

He got to follow along as Sho filmed on location. Driving around town in a JTV news van. Taking the shinkansen out to cover flooding in Kansai, a festival in Aomori. It was clearly a demanding job, and the stories were sometimes quite serious. The days were long, but Sho faced every story, every filming, with a positive attitude. 

From the outside, Sho seemed…well, Sho seemed rather perfect. He was the shining star of the neighborhood, the shining star of the late evening news. He was a bit grumpy in the mornings but by the time he’d showered and eaten, he was back and motivated to get on with the very organized to-do list he’d created for that day. He was a bit grumpy on Sunday mornings, drinking the bottle of “Peach” that the delivery service had brought, allowing Nino to supervise and ensure he was keeping the virus at bay.

The cracks in the facade only started to show on that fifth Saturday when he arrived back at the condo from the lunch with his friends. Nino heard him come in, heard the already familiar sound of the keys hitting the table in the genkan. It was the weekend, and he didn’t have to go in to the studio. The rest of his day was free. Sho, being Sho, probably had a million other things he wanted to accomplish that day.

But then Nino heard Sho’s bedroom door shut, and he knew that when Sho was still in there an hour later, it meant that the virus was starting to win again. He shut off his game, heading down the hall. He knocked, receiving the same silence he had that first week they’d been together.

He opened the door. Though he kept the rest of the condo in good order, Sho had a lot of clothes and a lot of it ended up on the floor as he decided on what to wear each day. The cleaning woman wouldn’t come until Monday, and Nino stepped over a few pairs of jeans, some shirts, and a few stray socks as he approached the bed and rumpled bed covers. Sho was still in the hooded Keio University sweatshirt he’d worn out of the house, his dark jeans.

“Headache?” Nino asked quietly.

“Started last night, during the broadcast. Felt like I was going to pass out. Don’t know how I got through lunch.”

Nino crossed his arms, standing near the bed as Sho turned over onto his side, looking away. “I couldn’t tell. You looked fine. And that’s not good, you know. You need to tell me when you’re not feeling well.”

“Are you my mother?”

Sho had been so polite, so kind all month. Now that the virus was making its demands of him, there was none of the neighborhood prince about him anymore. But it was Nino’s job to help him no matter how he behaved.

“It’s only going to get worse until you do something about it,” Nino said. “You want to spend your whole weekend like this?”

“I don’t need a lecture.”

“I think you do. Honestly, I think you’d save yourself a lot of grief if you moved to a Wednesday and Sunday schedule. The headaches wouldn’t even have a chance to start.”

Sho grabbed one of his pillows, hugging it. “You said Sundays were enough.”

“I didn’t quite say that. While a week in between drinking is enough to keep you alive and coherent, that doesn’t mean a week in between drinking is enough to keep you happy.”

“Get out.”

“Sho-san.”

“This is my fucking room. Am I allowed to have peace and quiet in my own fucking room?”

Without another word, Nino turned and quietly departed, closing the door behind him. The first year with the virus was always the hardest, and Nino knew that. It shocked the system, took the body a while to fully adjust. Drinking blood more regularly from the start could ease the process, stop the mood swings. But Sho was stubborn. He’d admitted it himself.

The Sho that Nino had been around for the last month, his spirit had been renewed. He approached work and life with vigor, with enthusiasm. But if he kept putting this off, if he kept waiting until the last moment he could bear, he was never going to fully adjust to his changed circumstances. Without Nino to pester him, a stubborn guy like Sho would put up with the pain, retreat into himself. If he got used to the headaches or the way the cravings made him feel, he’d keep pushing off a drink. 

And then the Thirsting Virus would win.

In the last few weeks, Sho had questioned whether Nino’s constant presence was even necessary. As the days had gone on, Nino had started questioning it too. Sho seemed so happy. But he’d only been lulled into a false sense of security. Nino’s job wasn’t over. Not yet.

Nino grabbed his bag, making sure his badge was inside. He figured that Sho would prefer a few hours to sulk in silence before he got to the breaking point he’d reached each Sunday before. So he left the condo, taking the train to the hospital and heading for the staff entrance. He showed his badge, and the security guard at the desk scanned him in without a word. He knew that all that came up was his name, his face, and that he was an employee of the Ministry of Health.

He walked through the halls, hearing the soft murmurs of nurses at their stations, the rumble of wheels as patient beds were moved around. He took an elevator down to the basement level, swiping his badge outside the Phlebotomy Lab. It was quiet on a Saturday, only a few technicians analyzing the blood that had been drawn from patients that day. He recognized a few, offering a wave. They never questioned why he was here. It was a Ministry of Health thing, it didn’t mean anything to them. He made his way to a set of refrigerators at the back of the lab, grabbing a small insulated transport container from the storage cabinet nearby. He was allowed to take whatever he wanted, but he only grabbed a single pack of Type A and put it in the container, shoving it in his bag. He made a notation with his badge number and what he’d taken on the sign-out sheet so they knew the account to charge.

He’d done this hundreds of times. He’d do it hundreds more. Today, he was doing it for Sho.

He was in and out in three minutes, heading for the exit. He was nervous on the ride back, his toes tapping in the subway car. Was this too aggressive? Would he come back and find that Sho had already given in, had already drained another bottle of “Peach”?

He swiped back in at the condo building, took the elevator up, and turned his key in the lock. The bottles were still in the refrigerator unopened. Sho’s bedroom door was still shut. He brought the storage container into the kitchen and took a breath. “Okay,” he muttered to himself. “Okay.”

The scent would be even stronger when it was warmed up. Not unlike a fresh pot of coffee brewing. He pulled a mug from Sho’s kitchen cabinet, trying to keep his hands from shaking as he cut the corner of the pack with scissors, let the liquid pour out into the mug. There was only enough to fill the mug halfway, but science had already determined that the “serving size” was perfect.

He set the mug in the microwave. Put 20 seconds on the clock. Pressed the start button.

Sho was there just as it dinged, standing in Nino’s space, breathing heavily. Nino hadn’t even heard his bedroom door open, hadn’t heard his footsteps on the floor. Sho was behind him, trapping Nino between his body and the microwave on the countertop.

Nino didn’t have to turn around to know that Sho was furious. Utterly furious. He hadn’t been this angry since the week they’d met. 

“What did you do?” he rasped, and Nino swallowed uncomfortably at the sudden closeness. Sho was almost pressed up against his back.

“Something fresher. From the hospital. Thought you might want to try it warmed up for once.”

“Get out of the way.”

Nino straightened up a little, hands settling on the countertop to either side of the microwave. “Why? Are you going to dump it out? Waste it when you know it’s the only thing that’s going to make that headache go away?”

He shut his eyes when he felt Sho’s hands move to grab hold of his arms. Not as hard as he was probably capable. The person Nino had come to know was still in control. Sho was fighting against the darkness as best he could. “Ninomiya-san, I don’t like that you’ve done this.”

“I’m sure you don’t.”

“I thought we were getting along here.”

“We’re not?”

“This is manipulation.” He was so close Nino could feel Sho’s breath against his ear. “This is wrong.”

“Maybe,” he muttered. “Your bosses want me to go so far as to drug you, but I won’t. That’s not who I am. Is this manipulative though? Yes. Yes, I admit it. But I’m not sorry about it. I’m not going to let that virus have you, and if this is what I have to do, then I’m going to do it.”

The microwave beeped impatiently, reminding them that its contents were ready to be taken out.

“I need you to go,” Sho said. “I…I don’t want you to stay here anymore.”

“Your employers…”

“I don’t deserve to be treated this way. By them or by you,” Sho hissed. “Like a child being tricked into cleaning his room by telling him he’ll get some candy.”

“They’re worried about you, Sho-san. They want you to get better. I want that too.”

“I’ll arrange for a moving service in the morning. I’ll cover all the costs.”

“Don’t do this…”

Sho’s grip on him grew tighter, and he winced. “I’m going to talk to the network tomorrow. I’ve put up with this bullshit for a month already, but from now on, this ‘monitoring’ will be on my terms. And if you can’t respect that, then I’m going to ask that you be replaced. I can’t…I can’t have you here like this all day.” 

Sho exhaled, and neither of them spoke for a few moments. The microwave beeped again pathetically.

“Ninomiya-san?” Sho eventually asked in a quiet voice, breath warm by his ear.

“Yes?”

“What…what blood type are you?”

He froze.

“Are you A?” Sho asked him. “Are you A like me?”

Deep down, he knew what Sho was asking. It wasn’t just the warm blood in the microwave that was pulling him in, attracting him. It was the warm blood inside _Nino_ that was having the same effect. This many days without blood meant that Sho’s senses were spiraling out of control. And after a month in close quarters, something about Nino was starting to smell pretty damn good to him too.

_I can’t have you here like this all day._

This wasn’t just about the blood pack in the microwave.

“I’ll leave. If that’s what you want.”

Sho let him go, and Nino tried not to shake as he stepped away, out of Sho’s space, away from the heat of his body. He looked away as Sho opened the microwave, as he heard Sho gulp down the contents of the mug. He moved to his room to pack a few things. He left the condo key on the table in the genkan, the building keycard beside it.

He did as Sho asked. He left.

—

**ix. travel plans**

Koizumi Kotaro was a peaceful man, welcoming Nino to his office in Kasumigaseki with a warm smile. “Have a seat, have a seat. It’s good to see you.”

The day before Nino had barely gotten home to his actual apartment when he’d broken down, sitting on the floor of his genkan and calling Jun. Telling him everything that had happened except the bit about Sho asking what blood type he was. Apologizing for being a failure. Apologizing for being a fuck-up. He was ruining the reputation of NLM Shinjuku with his incompetence. 

But Jun took charge immediately, his voice calm and steady and sure. “Don’t worry about it,” he’d said. “Nino, it’s okay. You’ve done a good job with an unreasonable assignment. We’ll figure out a way through this, I promise.”

And so on short notice, Jun had gone straight to Koizumi-san, arranging a meeting on a Sunday when the man ought to have been enjoying his weekend. But he didn’t seem remotely bothered.

“I’ve been reading the reports you’ve filed, and thank you for your detailed work here. I do agree that JTV’s approach to Sakurai-san’s case has been a bit…overzealous,” Koizumi said, reading from papers in a file folder. “It’s only natural for something like this to have happened.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed him,” Nino said. “Going to the hospital, getting a blood pack without asking him…”

Koizumi’s smile was sympathetic. “No, you did what you thought was best for him. As you’ve done throughout your career with us.”

“I’m sorry for all the inconvenience I’ve caused.”

“Nonsense,” Koizumi insisted. “I’ve spoken with JTV. They’ve already been in touch with Sakurai-san, and he seems very embarrassed about his conduct…”

“He has nothing to be embarrassed about…”

“That is not on me to decide. Sakurai-san has asked to retain you as his monitor for the foreseeable future. Matsumoto-san had told me that such a topic had come up in your argument, but let me assure you that Sakurai-san trusts you and does not want you replaced.”

Nino was embarrassed by the sheer relief that flooded through him in that moment. Sho didn’t hate him. Sho still wanted him to help. But that didn’t make things any easier.

Koizumi continued. “But the network has agreed that there’s no real need for you to live there any longer. You’ve still been asked to go to the TV station for the time being to assist. A sudden disappearance might raise questions, and the network doesn’t want Sakurai-san to come under any scrutiny.”

“That’s fine. Will I be returning to the Shinjuku office any time soon? Will I be going back to my old responsibilities?”

“Eikura-san has been doing a fine job in your absence, but don’t worry. You still have a place there. We had an opening for a position in Iwate, and Eikura-san has graciously accepted it. She will be leaving in a month for that new role, so for the time being she will continue to monitor your usual group, and you can focus on offering continued guidance to Sakurai-san.”

“I see. Thank you.”

“Ah, and there’s one more thing the network discussed with me. In two weeks, Sakurai-san is going on location…”

“Not to India again, I hope?”

Koizumi shook his head. “No, no. To Russia. There’s a story he has been tracking about a kidnapped child of a Russian father and Japanese mother. The couple became estranged, and apparently the father or his associates abducted the child and brought her to Russia. The network is sending Sakurai-san there to follow some leads, do a few interviews with local officials and with Japanese diplomats who are already in the country investigating the incident.”

Nino didn’t exhaustively watch the broadcasts since Sho had gotten back to work, but the story sounded slightly familiar. “That sounds dangerous. Doesn’t Russia persecute Virals?”

“Officially, no. But unofficially, well, I’ve heard the same rumors as you,” Koizumi admitted. “However, it would be out of character for Sakurai-san to decline the assignment. The network was planning to send a junior correspondent, but Sakurai-san refused. Since his condition is a secret, the network has asked if you’d be willing to go with him. They need someone to discreetly coordinate with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs representative once you get to Moscow to make sure that Sakurai-san can get any blood he needs during his trip there since it would be risky if he tried to obtain them himself.”

Nino blinked. “Wait, me?”

“Sakurai-san trusts you. So does JTV after your hard work this last month. Nobody would question you traveling with him either.”

“I see.”

“But we do understand it’s asking a lot of you, especially since you’ve already spent a full month working to help Sakurai-san without a break. Matsumoto-san has volunteered if you feel uncomfortable or unwilling to…”

“I’ll go,” he said immediately. “I’ll do it, it’s fine.”

It was scary enough that Sho was going. He couldn’t let another person he cared about go in his place, especially when Jun was also a Viral.

“Excellent! Thank you for your continued hard work on this assignment,” Koizumi said. “We will coordinate with the network and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to get your travel arrangements settled as well as the visas you need. For now, you need only focus on Sakurai-san and continuing that support.”

He left, still a bit stunned by what he’d just agreed to. 

Ohno and Satomi were busy that day, but Aiba wasn’t, meeting up with Nino at a family restaurant near his apartment. He rolled his eyes when Aiba came bounding in, thrilled to see him. “Ah, Nino-chan! You’re alive!”

“I’ve been alive all this time.”

Aiba gave him a hug, and they had a seat, perusing the menu. “It’s good to see you. You know, I’ve got a spreadsheet I’ve put together. It’s here on my phone. Details day by day on every outfit Matsumoto Jun-kun has worn since you’ve been gone. There’s even a 5 on the list.”

Nino was grateful for the distraction from Sho and Russia and everything that had happened the last few days. “I want all the details.”

It was good to catch up, to share laughs at the absent Jun’s expense. Yuriko had a new boyfriend, Aiba explained, a Viral she’d met at a meet-up with friends in Saitama. The blossoming relationship sounded very intense, like most that Yuriko seemed to fall into. Aiba continued to blab. “You know, since you’re gone I have to hear all about it instead. And poor Eikura-san too. I could probably draw this guy’s dick from memory, I know so much about it.”

“Glad to see the office remains both lively and wildly inappropriate in my absence.”

Aiba grinned. “Well, Eikura-san told us all the other day that she’s going to an NLM office up in Iwate, so are you coming back?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so. Nothing’s confirmed yet, but I have a feeling that I’ll be back soon enough.” He couldn’t tell Aiba everything. Some things about Sho still had to stay secret. “I do have to go out of town in a few weeks. It’s related to my secret mission. So I just wanted to give you a heads up that you might not be able to reach me while I’m away.”

“Out of town, you? But you hate to travel.”

“I know.”

“What a good employee you are,” Aiba said, leaning forward to ruffle his hair. “This secret assignment must be very important to you, or you’d be complaining to me or Jun-kun about it all the time.”

“Yeah,” Nino admitted. “It’s…it’s really important.”

Aiba gave him a mischievous look. “Oi…”

“What?”

Aiba leaned in, nearly knocking over Nino’s water glass in his attempt to whisper theatrically. “You’ve got that look in your face.”

“And what look is that?” he grumbled.

“A look of looooove,” Aiba said with an obnoxious giggle. “Is your super secret assignment some famous person? Are you going to a movie premiere or something? Will I see you in the background with one of those bodyguard transmitter wire things coming out of your ear?”

“No, it’s nothing like that…”

“It totally is, you’ve always been a bad liar. See, your ears are starting to get red, so obviously you’re having a problem keeping work and play separate with this assignment…ahhh, you’re cute when you like someone. Not like Yuriko who thinks I want to read the sexts that she gets…”

“Aiba-shi…”

Aiba laughed. “All this time my slacker friend Ninomiya has been living with some superstar actress or actor? This is unbelievable. Is it Takeuchi Yuko-san? You’ve loved her forever…”

“No. But even if it was, I wouldn’t tell you. Frankly, I shouldn’t have been so generous in telling you I’m traveling at all!”

Their food arrived, and Aiba backed off for a few moments while they ate. But that know-it-all grin was still stuck on his face and soon enough he was trying again.

“Ayano Go-san? You’d make a strange couple, huh…”

“I’m going to punch you in the face.”

For his pestering, Nino made Aiba pay for dinner, which he did without making a fuss. They went to a batting center together for a while, and it was a nice distraction. He could focus simply on hitting the ball. Not on Sakurai Sho and their changing relationship. Not on the fact that he’d just agreed to go all the way to Russia to make sure Sho got the blood he needed. But eventually it was time to go. Nino managed to leave with all his secrets intact, heading for home.

He headed up the stairs, turning the key in the lock. There was no signature scent in this building. No elevators at all, let alone one that needed a keycard. The place seemed so much smaller than it had before. And his bathtub was tiny, his fixtures old and well-used. Was it selfish to miss all the luxuries of Sho’s condo? Probably.

He was getting out of the bath, toweling off when his phone rang. It was Sho. He let it ring a few times before gathering the courage to pick up. “Hey Sho-san.”

“Hey.”

“If it’s alright with you, I’m probably going to stop by the TV station at the usual time tomorrow. I’ll just take the train, I can meet you where Ueda-kun usually drops you off. I’ll probably leave before the broadcast is over, don’t want to miss the last train home.”

“Okay. That’s great, thanks.” He heard Sho take a breath. “So I made spam and eggs today. All by myself.”

“Really?”

“Really. It wasn’t bad. It’s been hours and no food poisoning so far.”

“See, it’s not so hard if you just believe in yourself, Sho-san.”

“Thank you as always for your support.”

He smiled, rubbing the towel against his wet hair. “You’re very welcome.”

“Nino…”

“Yeah?”

“It’s quiet here without you, I’m not going to lie. I guess I got used to seeing you hunched over in the other room playing your games.” Sho cleared his throat. “But um, thank you…thank you for agreeing to switch things up. I think it might be good for me to get a little time to look after myself.”

“You’ll still see me. As much or as little as you want. And I still have to bug you about you-know-what.”

“I know. I’m thinking…I’m thinking of bringing one in my bag on Wednesday. To work. Just to, you know, stop the headaches before they start. Just like you’ve been saying. I was rude to you on Saturday, and it’s because I was irresponsible and wouldn’t take your advice. I’m really sorry.”

“Sho-san, it’s okay…”

“No, it’s really not okay. That’s not the person I want to be. Not after everything you’ve done to help…” Sho paused for a moment. “So, if I do bring a bottle of that stuff with me, could you hold onto it until I want it? Make sure the bottle gets disposed of properly like you’ve done with the others?”

“Of course, Sho-san.”

“And about Russia…they told me you said yes.”

“Yeah. I may not be a fun travel companion, but I’m coming.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it more than you know. Well. I’m sure you have some big boss to defeat or level to clear, so don’t let me keep you.”

“You’re doing okay?”

Sho’s voice was soft, warm. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m doing okay.”

“Good night then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night.”

—

**x. after 2:00**

On Wednesday afternoon, Sho slid open the green room door, smiling gently at the sight of him. “Hello. You’re early today.”

“Nah,” Nino said, looking up from the latest stack of Sho’s fan mail. Eventually he’d get through everything that had been sent while Sho had been away, but today was not that day. “I just got here.”

Sho settled in across from him at the table, setting down his bag. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain,” he said. “Actually…I _can_ complain about something…”

“Go right ahead,” Sho said with a chuckle.

Nino went through the envelopes he’d already opened, pulling out the one he was thinking of. “This one was gross. Most of your fans are normal, Sho-san, that’s the conclusion I’ve been able to draw after reading through this stuff the last several weeks. But this one…this one is horrible…”

“How horrible?”

Nino shuddered. “My eyes can’t take it again. Here, you look at it.”

He pushed the envelope across the table, and he watched Sho’s amusement grow the further his eyes traveled down the page.

“What’s great about this is that the words, the writing…it’s absolutely normal,” Sho said. “‘Sho-kun, you’ve gotten me through so many dark patches in my life. I only wish I could thank you properly for all the support you’ve given me. I like to draw, and I’ve enclosed this sketch of you and me. I hope you’ll like it.’ Ahhhh, this is incredible.” He turned the letter around, forcing Nino to see it again.

It was Sho’s face alright, a rather faithful reproduction. But said face was connected to a completely naked body, muscular and well-endowed, holding hands with an equally naked woman - presumably the fan artist in question. 

“It really looks like me, huh,” Sho mused, looking it over again.

“My knowledge is a bit limited there,” Nino mumbled, moving on to the next letter in the stack.

“What do you mean by…” Sho paused, then started to laugh. “Oh…”

Nino could feel himself growing a bit warm. He had no way of knowing if the artist’s depiction from the neck down was accurate or not. His fan certainly had a high opinion of him. “Give me that, I’ll recycle it for you…”

“Are we sending her a thank you?”

“We are not.” He looked up, narrowing his eyes. “I’d rather not encourage this sort of thing. Speaking as your personal assistant.”

“Thank you for running interference on all this,” Sho said, putting his hand to his heart. “Your sacrifices are noted.”

“So what’s happening in the world today, Sho-san? What’s going to be on the news tonight?”

“Well, there’s a G20 meeting coming up. We’re doing a segment on job hunting. Oh, and something that I’m sure will interest you.”

He perked up. “What’s that?”

Sho leaned across the table, lowering his voice in an almost sensual manner. “Tariffs.”

“Ha!” Nino replied, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I’ll pass.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Sho leaned back, unzipping his bag. “So. Onto other things. I brought it.”

He handed over a paper bag. Nino took it, seeing the familiar bottle within. Peach. He moved over, opening the small refrigerator in the green room and shoving it to the back.

“I’m going to be in here most of the day,” he said softly. “I won’t let anyone peek in there. It’s going to be okay.”

“Not looking forward to it.”

“You’re making big steps, Sho-san, whether you believe it or not.”

“I have to go to the newsroom. I’ll check in again later. You need anything?”

“Just for you to have a good broadcast tonight.”

Sho got up, looking a little less cheerful than he had when he’d come in. “Thanks, Nino.”

He got lost in the letters for a while, then scheduled a magazine interview for Sho on the Saturday afternoon the week before they headed to Russia. He was realizing that he wasn’t half bad at this personal assistant stuff. If the NLM ever went under, he supposed he had a second career all lined up for him.

The hours fell away, and he had a feeling that Sho was going to wait until after the broadcast was finished before giving the bottle in the refrigerator a try. He played on his phone for a while until the glow started to annoy him. Midnight came and went. Sho was likely in the recap meeting, and Nino’s eyes were tired. He sighed, moving to the cabinet and tugging out one of the small blankets within. If he got the futon out, he was never going to go home. But a nap…a nap would be fine until Sho came back.

He got himself situated, curling up on the tatami mats in the corner of the room. 

He thought he was dreaming when he felt fingers running through his hair, stroking along his arm.

“Nino…”

“Mmm…”

“It’s me…”

He held tighter to the pillow he was using. “Good.”

He barely registered a soft laugh as a hand started to gently rub his arm. Warm. Comforting. It felt nice. Really nice. When was the last time he’d had a dream this nice? He couldn’t remember…

“Come on…I’m going to have Masuda-kun drop you off.”

He slowly opened his eyes, only to find that Sho was lying on the tatami mat beside him, mirroring his position, already out of his suit and back in his personal clothes. He’d washed the makeup off his face, and his eyes were tired. He was close enough that Nino could count his eyelashes.

He looked away as soon as he realized just how close Sho was.

“Ah. Sorry. I was just resting my eyes.” He slowly sat up, and Sho’s hand fell away. Sho had been trying to wake him. That was all. That was all it was. Right?

Sho sat up as well, grinning. “You looked very peaceful. I’m sorry I had to bother you.”

“…what time is it?”

“Really late. After 2:00. I got pulled in about Russia, they had a few updates. Our visas should be all set by the end of the week. Plane tickets are booked.”

“First class I hope?”

Sho laughed. “Business. It’s still pretty nice.”

“Guess I’ll allow that.” He ran a hand through his hair, unable to ignore how fondly Sho was watching him. “What is it? Something on my face?”

Sho just shrugged. “No. Nothing.”

Nino looked over, stifling a yawn. He saw the bottle of blood on the table. The cap was beside it. “I didn’t even hear you open it…”

“Went into the hall,” Sho admitted. “I didn’t want to wake you until Masuda was ready to go.”

That woke him up. “Sho-san…what if someone had seen you…”

“Take a top off a bottle?” he said, waving his hand. “Nah, there’s only a handful of people still here. The morning news folks will be here in an hour or so, but nobody saw…besides, I came right back in to drink it.”

He shook his head, taking the empty bottle and the cap and shoving it into his bag. So Sho had just sat in here, drinking a bottle of blood while he slept? And then he’d finished it and moved to lie down close beside him, poking him awake? He didn’t want to read anything into it, he really didn’t. Nothing that might give him a sliver of hope that his crush wasn’t one-sided.

But he couldn’t help remembering the other night, the desperation he’d heard in Sho’s voice.

_“Are you A? Are you A like me?”_

“Let’s go,” Nino decided. “Since Masuda-kun has to go so far out of his way to give me a ride home, let’s not keep him waiting.”

They got up, headed for the elevator. Sho was beside him, eyes closed and peaceful as they rode down to the garage under the station. He seemed in good spirits, despite having forced himself to drink blood a second time that week. Nino looked over, wishing he could keep his feelings at bay. Wishing he could look at Sho and just see someone to help, no different from any of the other Virals he monitored. Nothing more.

The elevator dinged at the garage level, and Sho opened his eyes. Caught in the act, Nino didn’t bother to look away.

Sho didn’t either. Instead, he smiled.

“Come on. Let’s get you home.”

—

**xi. be logical**

Ueda picked him up from his apartment. Another man in the backseat greeted Nino as he got in. He was handsome, friendly.

“Hi, Tsumabuki Satoshi. I’m with the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. I’ll be your translator, working with my equivalents at the Moscow embassy. I’m coming along to make sure you and Sho-kun have everything you need during your trip.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nino said. “Ninomiya. I’m Sho-san’s new assistant.”

They drove off to Narita. Apparently this wasn’t Tsumabuki’s first time traveling overseas with Sho on JTV business. They’d been to China and France together before. He was fluent in Russian, Mandarin, and English and “dabbled” in a handful of other languages. Nino could only imagine how the two of them looked walking around a foreign country together. Handsome and stylish to an almost disgusting degree, he thought with a grin.

Koizumi-san had said that Nino would be working with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to make sure Sho had what he needed. He wondered if Tsumabuki was that person or if it would be someone else they’d meet once they landed in Moscow. Russian law didn’t allow them to pack bottled blood or blood packs in their luggage, so they’d have to make do with whatever was on site. Sho had assured him the night before that he’d had a bottle already, and the trip would be over in five days. He’d likely be fine, though the jet lag could possibly exaggerate the headaches he got when the virus started to get thirsty again. It was up to Nino to make sure Sho stayed healthy and that nobody else knew about his condition.

They made it to the airport, finding Sho once they made it through security. He came charging through the terminal, flinging his arms open. “Bukki!” he shouted.

The man from the Foreign Ministry laughed, allowing Sho to wrap him up in a big hug. “It’s good to see you! I heard about India…that’s what happens when they don’t send me with you. Nothing but trouble.” Sho looked uneasy for a moment, but Tsumabuki rolled his eyes, patting Sho’s arm. “I’ve been briefed,” he said quietly. “Ninomiya-san and I have your back.”

Nino was surprised. The man had given no indication of it in the car. He wondered why they’d even sent him if Tsumabuki was going along too. It wasn’t like Nino could speak Russian. 

“Anybody else been…briefed?” Sho asked. “Just so I know what I can or can’t say.”

Tsumabuki shook his head, letting Sho go. “Just me. And I’m sure I don’t know everything.”

“Well Nino does,” Sho said. “He’s the expert around here.”

“I’m nothing of the sort,” he said in embarrassment, waving his hand.

They headed to the business class lounge, and slowly the small JTV crew assembled. Sho and Nino, a cameraman named Sato, and a JTV producer named Sakai. The four of them and Tsumabuki from Foreign Affairs would all be traveling together, and the Japanese Embassy in Moscow was going to coordinate everything else from meals and their hotel rooms to transportation around the city and any sightseeing the group wanted to do.

Sho would be doing several interviews. Apparently the man who’d had his own child kidnapped and brought to Russia had ties to a dissident group. The Russian government was almost pleased that a Japanese TV crew was coming to bring more attention to the case, if only to shine a spotlight on the group themselves. 

“Propaganda, huh?” Sato the cameraman decided as he, Sho, and the producer went through the schedule that had already been planned. “They’re going to use Sho-san’s segment as an excuse for a crackdown against a group that disagrees with them.”

“It’s best to keep those kind of thoughts to yourself while we’re there,” Tsumabuki told them. “We don’t get involved with local politics. Our goal is only to urge for the safe return of the child.”

Sakai-san chuckled, going through the paperwork. “We’ve got police escorts through the city, they’re not taking any chances of a diplomatic incident.”

The more Nino heard, the more scared he became. And not just because of Sho’s Viral status. He’d known that Sho traveled all over for his job, but for the first time he was faced with what that really meant. It wasn’t just covering elections or the Olympics. It was about finding stories from the other side of the world and determining a way to bring that home for a Japanese audience. And not every story was a happy one. 

Not every story was a safe one.

He got up, saying he was going to the bathroom. He was just coming out the door when he found Sho, dressed down for the flight in a baseball cap and sweats, not so different from how he’d looked coming back from quarantine. “Let’s take a walk, okay?”

“What if there’s an announcement?”

Sho pulled his phone from his pocket, wiggling it. “Bukki will call me. We’ve got a while before we board. I told them to grab our stuff and meet us at the gate if we’re not back before they head down.”

“Okay.”

They left the business class lounge and wandered through the crowds. With his cap on, nobody seemed to notice or care that Sakurai Sho from JTV’s Zero News was wandering through the terminal that day. They found an emptier part of the neighboring terminal, a pair of massage chairs. Sho collapsed into one with a sigh, digging around in his pockets for change. 

“Wanna use it?” he asked.

Nino shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.” 

“Suit yourself,” he said, inserting a few coins and letting the chair rumble around him. “Ahhhh, that’s good stuff.”

Nino leaned against the window nearby, watching Sho relax as the airport noise surrounded them.

“Tsumabuki-san seems like a good guy.”

“We go back a good long while. The first time I went abroad for work, they sent him with me. Australia. I did a segment on the Great Barrier Reef.”

“I’m guessing he knows the Russian word for blood then…”

Sho looked over, eyes sympathetic. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll be fine. I might not even need it while we’re there.”

“Sho-san, I’ve been thinking…” 

He’d been thinking about it a lot since the travel visas had been confirmed, since the long-distance trip overseas became a reality. Since the package he’d ordered online the other day had arrived. But he hadn’t known what to say. Or how to say it. 

“Maybe it’s safer to just…not ask where to find that stuff over there. I don’t want anything getting traced back to us. To you. Or to Tsumabuki-san, who would be putting himself at risk asking for it in a country that’s more hostile to Virals than our own. Especially since there’s enough danger that we’re walking into as it is…”

“Nino, it’s going to be fine…”

“You went to India to cover an election and look what happened. That was just an election.”

Sho sighed. “That’s different…”

All he could do was blurt it out. “I’m type A, okay. You asked me before, and I didn’t answer you. I didn’t know how to. But I’m A. I’m A, and so I think that’s the safest option to protect you on this trip. There’s no trace left behind. Nobody will suspect a thing.”

Sho stared at him, eyes wide and full of horror, and the growing silence between them might have been more serious had Sho not been in a vibrating massage chair at the moment.

“No…” Sho protested.

“Think about it. Be logical.”

He shook his head. “Nino, I won’t ask that of you…I can’t even imagine…”

“Only if you need to, okay?” he said awkwardly. “If you get a headache, I need you to tell me. We don’t know what jet lag is going to do to you there. This is your first flight since the med evac, you know. And even if Tsumabuki-san asks how to get it, what if it’s not possible on short notice? Then this really is the only option you have.”

Sho looked greatly pained. “You said it’s frowned upon.”

“Keeping you safe is far more important to me than what Japanese society thinks of something done by two consenting adults behind closed doors.”

He saw Sho’s cheeks redden at his phrasing. “Nino, I…”

“We should get back,” he said decisively. “Unlike you, Mister Jet-Setting Celebrity Newscaster, I’ve never flown business class before. And I want to be pampered from the moment they let us board.”

He turned around to hide the embarrassment that was flooding through him, heading back in the direction of the business class lounge. “Look at you,” Oh-chan would probably say right now if he’d just witnessed the most shameful conversation Nino had had in his life. “Look at you telling the Viral you want to hook up with that it’s okay to bite you and drink your blood. Welcome to the dark side, my friend.”

Welcome to the dark side, indeed.

—

**xii. Я только хочу помочь Вам**

Aragaki Yui-san and Vassily Kuznetsov from the Japanese Embassy in Moscow greeted them upon arrival at Domodedevo Airport. It had been a miserable ten hours or so for Nino. Despite the comforts of business class, turbulence knocked a plane around without caring where you were sitting.

Vassily was a friendly Russian national who worked as a driver for the Embassy, and he led them all to an Embassy van that was parked and waiting for them. His Japanese was actually pretty good. A childhood obsession with Dragonball had led him to his current occupation at the Embassy. The equally cheerful Aragaki-san, a career diplomat, was busy chatting with Tsumabuki-san about how things were going at the Embassy.

Nino, exhausted, sat all the way in the back of the van, dozing in and out as Vassily practiced his Japanese with Sho and the others from JTV on the way to their hotel. JTV had arranged a block of rooms for them at a Marriott that was maybe a mile, mile and a half from Red Square and the Kremlin. Apparently that meant something to Sho, who wanted to get in a little sightseeing while they were in town.

As for Nino, unless he was being carted around to the different interviews that had been arranged for Sho, he wasn’t here to play tourist. He’d been seated next to Sakai-san on the flight, and so he and Sho hadn’t spoken much since Nino had left him with his mouth hanging open in that massage chair. It was probably for the best. Sho knew what Nino had offered, and that was that.

Aragaki-san got them checked in, handing them their keycards and bidding them a good night. Vassily offered to take everyone out to a club, but they asked him to try them again another night. The man had left them with a wink and a promise to get them all “properly drunk” another time. The two departed, and the five of them dragged their bags to the elevator. In the morning, Sato and Sakai would be going out on the town with Vassily to shoot footage of the city that could be used in Sho’s segment. 

Sho himself was going to a meeting with a government official - the woman had not agreed to be shown on camera, but she was happy to speak with Sho (via Tsumabuki-san) about the Golden Falcons, the dissident group that Nikolai Ramikov belonged to. Ramikov being the father of the missing child. In the days to come, Sho would be on camera with other government officials as well as representatives from different organizations that tried to reunite families. Nino hoped that Sho would get what he needed, do his sightseeing, and then just go home. No hospital visits. No med evac flights. No quarantine situations.

Their rooms went in order along a long hall. Sato. Sakai. Tsumabuki. Sakurai. And then Ninomiya. Sho had already gone into his room by the time Nino figured out how the keycard worked. It was a nice room with modern fixtures and a nice big bed. They were only on the third floor, so when he looked out the window, his only view was of the parking garage in the office building next door. But he supposed it wasn’t worth complaining about a room he hadn’t paid for.

There was a knock, and Nino jumped a little, bracing himself on the window. It was only then that he noticed an adjoining door on the other side of the armoire in the room. He undid the chain and then the two locks, pulling it open to find Sho standing there in his baseball cap and casual clothes, holding his own doorknob.

“Shouldn’t you ask who it is before opening the door?” Sho teased him, looking tired but in a good mood.

“I walked past you to get to this room, who else was going to be knocking?” he shot back.

“Touche,” Sho acknowledged. “How you feeling? That was a pretty bad flight.”

“There was a point when we were halfway across Siberia where I wished I’d chosen to become a garbage collector or a parking lot attendant instead. You know. A safe job that doesn’t require ten hour flights.”

Sho grinned. “I mean, your actual job doesn’t usually require that of you either. Unfortunately you got stuck with me. What did you call me again? Mister Jet Setting something or other?”

He smiled in return. “I believe it was Mister Jet Setting Celebrity Newscaster.”

“Ah.”

“How about you, Sho-san?” he asked quietly. “Feeling okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll sleep like a rock tonight. Apologies if you can hear my snoring through the walls.”

“I never minded it when I was at your place all that time. It was kind of soothing, actually, like a grandfather’s snoring.”

Sho narrowed his eyes, taking faux offense. “I see.” But then his smile was back, the one that Nino couldn’t resist. “In the morning, Bukki and I are going to meet downstairs in the hotel restaurant for breakfast at 9:00 if you want to come.”

“Thanks, I’ll let you know.”

Sho moved to close the door, but stopped halfway. “Hey Nino…”

His heart started to beat a little quicker. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. For coming all this way just for me. I wish…that you didn’t have to.”

“It’s my job to look out for you,” he said, regretting the words as soon as they left his lips. This had stopped being a “job” ages ago, and he knew it.

“Right,” Sho said, unable to mask his hurt look in time. He met Nino’s eyes, inclining his head in thanks once more. “Well. See you tomorrow. Get some rest, okay?”

“Night.”

He closed his own door, turning the lock but not bothering with the chain. He leaned back against it. Stupid. He was stupid. He took a long, hot shower, washing his frustration away. But the bathroom was full of those special mirrors that didn’t fog up. When he stepped out, he caught a glimpse of his back for the first time in a while. They were easy to ignore most of the time, the faded pink scars that dotted up and down his back. But they weren’t so easy to ignore now, seeing them there and wondering if he’d soon have another one.

He shook his head, turning away from the mirror so he saw only what he preferred to see.

There was a rather plush bathrobe in the room so he took a series of gravure-style photos while wearing it, sending them to Aiba, Yuriko, and Oh-chan. But after that bit of nonsense, he was exhausted. He was asleep soon after his head hit the pillow.

To his shock, he wasn’t all that tired come morning. A solid nine hours of sleep did the trick, but he was hungry, checking his phone to find that it was nearly 9:00 AM already. He was about to get out of bed and head downstairs when he thought about the hurt look he’d seen in Sho’s eyes the night before. He was probably giving Sho whiplash. In the very same day he’d told Sho that he was just a job but that it was also totally okay for Sho to drink his blood. The epitome of mixed signals.

Instead he turned on the TV, helping himself to some snacks from the minibar. He put the bathrobe on again, feeling very king-like as he munched in bed and checked his phone. He had some very excited responses from his friends. Aiba had sent a picture in return of Matsumoto Jun taken from behind - he was clad in a yellow and blue checkered shirt and gray slacks. Before he sent back a ‘3,’ he read Aiba’s message more carefully.

_He’s told me multiple times today that his shirt is vintage, and he paid 25,000 yen for it. Save me, Nino._

“Ah, I see,” Nino said aloud, looking at the photo one more time before sending Aiba a ‘2’ in response. He always deducted points when Jun bragged about the money he shelled out.

It was nearly noon when there was a knock again at the doors adjoining their rooms. It was Sho, dressed for his interview in a gray suit and red tie. He was still running a comb through his hair.

“Aragaki-san said the driver will be here in about twenty minutes. Meet you in the lobby?”

Not wanting to let Sho look foolish, he’d brought a suit of his own, hoping it didn’t look too rumpled after the long flight. He met Sho downstairs, earning himself an amused look.

“What’s so funny?” Tsumabuki asked.

“This guy…I’ve never seen him dress up before,” Sho said. “I’m both shocked and impressed.”

Tsumabuki leaned over, patting Nino on the shoulder. “I think you look great. Don’t listen to this jerk.”

Vassily from the night before was still driving Sato and Sakai around, so a different driver greeted them. This one didn’t have much interest in speaking to them in Japanese, so Tsumabuki sat beside him and made small talk while Nino and Sho took the back seat for the ride over. They went through security and were greeted warmly by the staff of Nadezhda Kumerova, an official with the country’s Ministry of Internal Affairs.

Sho and Tsumabuki went inside to meet with Mrs. Kumerova while Nino, lacking any real credentials, was asked to wait in the outside office where the secretaries and other staffers kept shooting him smiles. Apparently it wasn’t every day that a foreign TV station was granted permission to speak with someone in their organization. The meeting took over two hours, leaving Nino to sit in the office and watch the Russian news station that was playing on a TV screen in the sitting area, the sound turned way down. Not that Nino would have understood it if the volume was up either.

He was tempted to play games on his phone, but he didn’t want to do anything that might look too strange. Anything that might reflect negatively on Sho and JTV or Tsumabuki and the Japanese Embassy.

Finally the meeting was over, and Sho emerged from the room beside a middle-aged woman in a bold green dress. She was speaking quickly, shaking Sho’s hand and smiling. Tsumabuki was close behind, translating for Sho on the fly. All that Nino really heard was that Mrs. Kumerova was praying for the safe return of little Sora, the girl who’d been stolen away from home.

“All of Russia knows that that little girl belongs back with her mother in Tokyo,” Tsumabuki was translating. “It’s despicable that the Golden Falcons continue to cover up her whereabouts. I promise that we’re doing all we can to search for her.”

“Thank you so much. I’m grateful for your assistance and support,” Sho replied, letting Tsumabuki handle it from there.

Once they were officially cleared to leave, they emerged from the building to a bright and sunny day. The next two days for Sho were utterly packed, so today was likely his only chance to get his sightseeing done. 

“How about it, Ninomiya-san?” Tsumabuki asked. “You wanna come with us? Pretty sure we’re too late to see Lenin’s body today, but we’re going to wander around for a while.”

“Nino’s not much of a traveler,” Sho said. “Any incentives we could offer to get you to come with? Caviar? Vodka?”

He waved his hand. “Sorry guys, I think I’ll pass.”

“But what if you never come back here again?” Tsumabuki complained, utterly aghast at Nino’s lack of interest.

“I guess I’ll always wonder, huh?”

They both shook their heads at him, telling him to have Misha the driver take him back to the hotel. But Nino declined. “Misha is all yours,” he said. “Let him at least get you over there. I can walk.”

Sho looked at him sadly. “Will you at least come out with us later? We were going to grab dinner, all of us. A place that Vassily-san recommended last night in the van.”

The thought of all that sure to be heavy food made Nino’s stomach hurt. He didn’t handle rich things that well. “I might just get room service, if that’s alright.”

They parted, Nino letting the GPS on his phone guide him back. It would be a good hour and a half on foot, and honestly, he didn’t mind it. He needed time to think about what he wanted. And what it might mean if he gave in to the feelings he couldn’t shake. If he gave in the next time Sho looked at him with those dark eyes, unable to get past the words “Nino, I…”

He’d have to resign. It wasn’t possible to both monitor Sho and pursue something with him. He couldn’t allow himself to be that close to someone and still have to report back on them to the NLM. But now that they were here, halfway around the world and so far from home, Nino was realizing that being with Sho would be hard. Really hard.

Which was so confounding because of how easy Nino found it to be around him. To just sit with Sho, to talk about stupid things. To let Sho talk all by himself, to let him tell a story about this trip or that. Sho was smart and charming and funny and kind. He’d bounced back from something that had changed his life forever. He still had a long road ahead of him, a while yet before he’d probably accept everything about life as a Viral. But he’d been so brave, so courageous. Did Sho probably see it that way? No. No, he seemed to focus only on the struggle, on the stigma.

But yeah, being with him would be hard. It would be hard because they wanted different things from the world. Sho wanted knowledge. Sho wanted to go out and explore and experience. Nino preferred to just stay home. To keep to the neighborhoods he was used to. To do his job and do it well without making a fuss. Maybe Sho would grow tired of him. Maybe Sho would grow bored with his lack of ambition. And on Nino’s end, he’d always be a little bit afraid. Afraid of Sho’s Viral status being outed. Afraid of Sho’s work that took him to places like this where children had been stolen away. To war-torn places. To the aftermath of natural disasters. Sho would worry him half to death, simply because it was Sho’s job to go to dangerous places. To far off places.

Ah, but he was being silly. He was already predicting a break-up before they so much as admitted any feelings about one another. 

“You’re being too pessimistic,” Aiba would tell him. “Things have a way of working out sometimes.” 

“Opposites attract,” Ohno would say, speaking from experience. “Don’t be so afraid.”

He’d worn dress shoes instead of sneakers in order to look professional for the meeting he didn’t even attend, and he was regretting it now. He would probably have a blister on his ankle soon, having not worn these shoes for long distances before. He slowly made his way back to the hotel, getting out of the suit and tie and all the things that weren’t him.

He dug around in his bag, tugging out the small package, making sure it was still there where he’d left it. He’d kept it at the bottom of his checked bag so there’d be no issues at security. He opened the hinged box, staring for a few moments at the stainless steel, the elegant little blade. He shut it and shoved it back where he’d left it before.

Things had been simpler a few months back. Before Sho, before having to live with him day in and day out, before falling for him had become inevitable. He put on the TV, elevated his sore feet on pillows. He watched Chinese soap operas with Russian subtitles and understood absolutely none of it. Night fell, and he did his best to communicate with someone at reception about placing a dinner order for him. Something with a hamburger in it, that much he was able to figure out from a picture on the room service menu.

He ate, watched more unintelligible TV, took a long bath, contemplated masturbating with Sho in mind until he fell asleep. Not much different from how he spent his time at home lately, though the TV shows were in a different language.

It was after midnight when he heard a bit of a ruckus in the hallway. He heard Japanese again for the first time in hours. There was singing, merriment. He heard the door to the adjoining room open and close, heard Sho laughing to himself. Nino pulled his hand from his pajama bottoms and turned the TV off, turned the lights off, hoping that Sho would just go to sleep. That Sho would just go to sleep, wake up and have breakfast with his friend, and then go off to his interviews. That the two of them could make it through this trip without incident.

But then there was a soft knock at the adjoining door, and Nino knew it was impossible not to respond. Not just because of how badly he wanted Sho, but because maybe Sho needed him for something entirely different.

He unlocked the door, could smell the vodka on Sho as it wafted in. He was in the suit from earlier, but his dress shirt was untucked, his tie undone. His eyes were struggling to focus.

“You missed out,” Sho said, pointing a finger at him rudely. “This kinda…shish kebab kinda stuff. We had a whooooole bunch of it.”

Nino smiled weakly. “Sounds like you also had some of that vodka Vassily-san was talking about. You’re not gonna get sick are you?”

Sho shook his head vigorously. “Nope, nope, nope. I am in complete charge of myself. I have to drink waaaay more than this to puke. Bukki though…Bukki’s probably in trouble. And then when he’s hungover he’s going to start translating stuff into the wrong language tomorrow. Now if you’ll pardon me.”

Sho gave Nino a little push, marching into his room uninvited and turning on the light. Nino hoped that Sho wasn’t going to notice the tissue box on the bedside table and draw any conclusions about how Nino had been spending his evening. 

Sho moved to the window, although Nino wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, since the view from his own room couldn’t have been much different. He started nosing around Nino’s suitcase, tugging the zipper this way and that.

“Luggage…you need better luggage…”

“I already had to borrow that bag from a friend.”

Sho looked at him, eyes almost sparkling. “For real?”

“For real.”

“Awwwww, that’s cute.”

“I don’t go anywhere. I mean it. Living with you was the closest thing I’ve had to a vacation in years.”

“I liked having you around, Nino,” Sho admitted, poking through the room service menu that Nino had left open on the desk. “I really did. I’d been living alone a long time. I’m not home a lot, I guess, so it was fun. Fun having someone to talk to.”

“It’s for the best though. That I don’t stay there.”

Sho shrugged, lifting his arms in an exaggerated fashion. “I liked when you cooked for me.”

“I was never really cooking for _you_ ,” he teased. “I just happened to cook enough to feed two people from time to time.”

Sho chuckled at that, opening and closing drawers.

“What are you looking for, Sho-san? Is there something you need?”

“When I’m a little drunk, I start to investigate. I’m a reporter, you know.”

“I do know.” He stepped around the bed, moving to take Sho by the arm. “But you should probably drink some water, go wash up. It’s a big day for you tomorrow.”

Sho turned to hug him, laughing a little as he did so. Nino froze up, unsure what to do. “You’re so good to me, you know that? I never told you that enough. And then I sent you away.”

Nino left his arms at his sides, eyes closing as he couldn’t help but enjoy the warmth of Sho all around him. “You didn’t need me with you 24/7 anymore. You’re a big boy now, drinking your blood.”

Sho snorted, but didn’t let him go. “It tastes good. I hate that it tastes good, Nino.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Bottle is fine I guess. The packet, the fresher stuff. That’s better. But you’re too much.”

“Hmm?”

He felt Sho’s hand start to move up and down his back, a comforting gesture. “It’s why I had to send you away. You’re too much. When it got bad those times, when I waited too long…I smelled you. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

“Smelled me how?”

“If you were in the same room, I could smell you. Even if you’d just dried your hands on a towel in the bathroom, I could smell you. I knew that if you stayed, I’d eventually do something I’d regret.”

It was a dangerous conversation, but Nino couldn’t help himself. “Like what? Bite me?”

Nino backed up a little, Sho giving him the space to do so, to look up. Sho’s eyes were tired and unfocused. His cheeks were pink from the drinking he’d done. His hair was messy, falling across his brow. He wasn’t the guy from the news now. But he was gorgeous. He was perfect.

“Watching me is your job. I didn’t wanna get you in trouble by being selfish.”

“Sho-san…”

Sho finally let him go. “Look at me, I didn’t even ask if it was okay to touch you…”

He felt Sho’s absence immediately, wanted to pull him back. Wanted to be touched again. Wanted far more than that. “It’s…it’s okay…”

Sho crossed his arms, looking at him. “I’m sorry, Nino. I’m all messed up.”

“You’re not…”

“When this trip is over, when we’re back in Tokyo…I don’t think you should be my monitor anymore. I know that I told your NLM people that I wanted you to stay, but I don’t know anymore…”

His heart sank. “How can we fix this, Sho? What can I do?”

Sho’s smile made his heart ache. “Nothing’s broken, you know. It’s not something that needs to be fixed. I don’t think you’re understanding me.” Sho blinked a few times. “Maybe it’s because I’m drunk, huh…”

“Go to bed, Sho-san. You need to be perfect tomorrow. You know that.”

“Yeah…”

Nino grabbed him by the shoulders, turned him around and gave him a little push. “Come on, you smell like a distillery. Off you go.”

Sho obediently headed back to his room, turning back and holding onto the door. If this was one of those Chinese soap operas with the Russian subtitles that Nino had been watching earlier, they’d throw caution to the wind. They’d kiss and tumble into Sho’s bed and nothing would matter. Somehow everything would be fixed. But this wasn’t a soap opera. This was a Viral and his monitor. This was still a job. 

Nino gave Sho a little wave before shutting the door.

—

**xiii. vassily kuznetsov’s car**

The two days of interviews passed in a blur. Vassily coordinated with the police, arranging for extra drivers to bring them around and haul their equipment, negotiating their entry to secure locations where Sho conducted his interviews. Sato was given permission to film, working with a local crew that helped him with lighting and audio and keeping things moving. Sakai worked with Tsumabuki and Aragaki, translating back and forth with the crew and with the individuals that Sho interviewed.

Throughout it all, Nino mostly hung back, watching Sho for any signs of weakness. The slightest grimace of pain, a hand to his forehead, clammy skin. Anything that might imply that the Thirsting Virus didn’t give a damn about important interviews and that it needed to be appeased soon.

But Sho made it through. Sho had difficult conversations with officials, with people who were closely involved with the case, looking for Sora. Looking for Nikolai Ramikov, who hadn’t been seen in a few weeks. As the interviews wound down, Nino could see that they were all going to go home without any good news about Sora. They were looking. Everyone was looking. But leads were starting to run cold. At the end of the day, one of the women from the Lost Children’s Network said to Sho, the police could only stretch themselves so far on behalf of one child. 

He knew that Sho wouldn’t give up the story. He knew that Aragaki, Vassily, and the others at the Embassy were going to keep fighting. But they’d come all this way to pretty much learn that the case was slowly fading from the news cycle, that other stories were floating to the top, ahead of Sora.

They had a brief meeting in the lobby of the government building where Sho had conducted his final interview, reviewing everything they’d done. Sakai-san was in better spirits than everyone else. “This isn’t the end,” the producer declared. “When this footage gets cut together, I truly believe it’s going to reach a sympathetic audience. Sora-chan needs us more than ever. Thank you all for your hard work here.”

Vassily returned, cell phone to his ear. “I am sorry for the delaying,” he said with his accented Japanese. “A threat has been reported to the police, something at a shopping mall that is on our approved route back to the Marriott hotel. A bomb threat perhaps, I am just getting the word now.” 

“A bomb threat?” Aragaki asked. “Has anyone claimed responsibility?”

Vassily rolled his eyes. “Golden Falcons, of course.”

Nino’s heart started racing, and he felt Sho’s hand move to rest against the small of his back, keeping him steady.

“Never you mind it, they are a perpetual nuisance,” Vassily said, waving a hand confidently. “Streets are closed, big perimeter is set. Better safe than sorry, yes? We are going to reroute, split into a few more cars, unmarked ones from the Embassy. Each will have an unmarked officer’s vehicle in front and in back. Come. Come, come.”

There was no room for debate.

Aragaki and Sato and his camera equipment departed first with Misha. Another driver, Alexei, pulled up and Vassily waved. “Ninomiya and Sakai, please…”

Nino froze, not sure what to do. But then Sho’s voice was calling out. “Could Nino stay with me? I’m sorry if that’s a problem.”

“No, no,” Vassily said. “Alexei will take Tsumabuki and Sakai then. Gentlemen, please…”

Nino looked down, embarrassed, but Sho’s arm came around his shoulder. “You’re my monitor, aren’t you?” Sho said quietly. “You’ve gotta keep me out of trouble.”

“Right,” he muttered.

Vassily finally got the confirmation he needed, speaking rapid-fire Russian with the government staff. “Okay, Sakurai and Ninomiya with me. Backseats, please.”

Nino followed Sho into the car, buckling his seatbelt with shaking hands as Vassily got into the driver’s seat in front of Sho, looking completely cool and collected. It was good that he was driving then. He pointed to the rearview mirror. 

“We have Officers Vasiliev and Anokhin in the car in front. Behind us Kasyanov and Naumenko. We are not afraid of Golden Falcons. We go to the hotel, and we’ll have people on the premises overnight. Then bigger escort in the afternoon tomorrow back to the airport for you. Absolutely safe. Absolutely.”

“Vassily-san,” Sho said as the car pulled away and out into traffic. “Do you think this shopping mall threat…this thing with the Falcons…you don’t think this has anything to do with our inquiries into Sora-chan?”

“Ah, well, the timing is a bit suspicious, yes?” The walkie talkie Vassily had shoved in a cup holder started squawking at him in Russian. “They tell me which street they are taking. Vasiliev is taking us along the river.”

And it was true enough, Nino discovered, looking out the tinted windows of the vehicle as they drove along the riverfront. He had no sense of where he was, where the car was in relation to the hotel. Not driving too fast or too slow, the walkie talkie gave Vassily the route and he announced everything, keeping them informed. He stayed in formation with the car in front, and Nino saw Sho turn his head, looking back to the car behind. 

“They are opening a few of the streets already,” Vassily announced, “but we are staying on the route ahead.” 

The walkie talkie started shouting again.

“Ah, ah,” Vassily complained as Vasiliev and Anokhin ran through a yellow light. “Are they rookies? They should be stopping, but yes, we will follow. The group must stick together.”

The car made it across the intersection just as the light turned red. Sho turned to look back again, laughing. Nino didn’t understand how he could be so calm right now. But he supposed Vassily’s laid-back nature helped. “There are people honking back there.”

“Yes, of course. That is because Kasyanov had to run the red light. You have seen the videos on Youtube. Moscow is better than other places in this country, but it is amazing sometimes what the drivers do. And to think, these are the police…”

The walkie talkie made another announcement. Vassily was so annoyed that he spoke back to his police friends in Japanese, not realizing it.

“Say again, Dima? Yes, okay. You are certain?” Vassily put on his signal, moving to the right lane and keeping the signal on to turn at the next light. “His GPS says there is an accident ahead. We’re going right before it comes to a standstill.”

“How close are we to the hotel?” Nino asked as the car turned the corner onto a wider boulevard.

“Give or take, we are fifteen minutes away,” Vassily explained. “Now, I don’t know that you’ve been down this street yet, Sakurai-kun, but it is famous in Russia’s history for…”

There were two loud pops, and the driver’s side glass shattered. 

Nino felt something wet on his face, and then Sho was pushing him down, down, yanking at his seatbelt, unbuckling it for him. He was on the floor of the backseat when their car smacked into the one in front of them, presumably Vasiliev and Anokhin’s, stopping them abruptly. He heard another few pops as the airbags in the front seat deployed.

“Sho!” Nino screamed, face shoved against the rough carpet at the bottom of the floor. 

“Stay down!” Sho shouted, covering him almost completely.

There were more pops, hitting one of the doors, so close. They were so close, and he cried out. Those pops were gunshots. God, those pops were _gunshots_.

“We have to stay down here, away from the windows,” Sho was saying, his body heavy on top of him. “The doors are probably reinforced, protocols for Embassy security.”

“Vassily-san…”

“Keep your head down, Kazu,” Sho said. “Please…please don’t move, okay?”

He felt Sho move a little, give him more room to breathe, but it was still a tight fit. “You need to let me cover you instead,” Nino demanded. “Sho…”

The window on Sho’s side of the backseat shattered, and they both cried out, Sho moving to cover him again without hesitation.

“Stop,” Nino begged him. “Stop…”

By now, he could hear shouting in the streets, angry Russian voices. The police…it was the police from the other cars. They were looking for the shooter. Help was coming…

The walkie talkie crackled. Nino felt Sho’s fingers stroke through his hair. “I’m going to get it.”

“No!” He tried to turn, grab hold of Sho’s arm. “No, don’t move…”

But Sho was bigger, Sho was stronger, and he got up, quickly leaning into the front seat and snagging the walkie talkie out of the cup holder just before another bullet pinged the driver’s side of the car. Sho used the only Russian words he seemed to know, saying them into the walkie talkie before switching into Japanese. “Help. Help us, we are in Vassily’s car and…”

There were more pings against the door, and Sho dropped back down, wrapping himself back around Nino, holding him close. How long was this going to continue? How much more could those doors take?

“Sho, I’m sorry,” Nino whimpered. “I’m sorry…”

“Ssh, the police are going to help us…”

“Sho, I should be the one…”

“Don’t say that,” Sho said, his voice warm and soothing. A bit shaky all things considered, but he was so strong. Nino reached a hand out as best he could, finding Sho’s. Lacing their fingers together. Sho gave him a good hard squeeze. “I’ve got those 10 extra years, right? I’ve got this. I’ve got you…”

Finally they could hear sirens in the distance. Sho gave the walkie talkie a try again, calling out. “Vassily Kuznetsov’s car! Vassily Kuznetsov’s car!”

He heard the word for police somewhere close and soon the car was surrounded. “Japan people,” Nino heard in heavily accented English. “Vassily Kuznetsov’s car! Japan people. It is police!”

Nino felt Sho slip away from him, shook in fright as Sho’s passenger door was opened behind them.

“Okay,” came the man speaking in English. “Okay, it is clear now, Japan people.”

“Nino,” came Sho’s voice from behind him. “Nino, it’s okay. Look at me as you get out, okay? Look at me.”

Which meant don’t look at Vassily. But somehow Nino had known not to do that as soon as the driver’s side glass had shattered. As soon as he’d realized why his face was wet.

He shakily rolled over a bit, sitting up, seeing that the back seat was covered with tiny fragments of window glass. Bits of it stung his hands as he crawled toward Sho, who was waiting for him by the open door. Sho helped to tug him out, and Nino collapsed against him, unable to keep his sobs inside.

Sho stood with him there in the street, sirens echoing down the boulevard. They stood there a while, Nino unable to let him go. Sho’s arms were around him tight, and he was shaking. He’d been brave in the car, brave enough for both of them, but surely he’d reached his limit.

He eventually heard Japanese, Aragaki’s terrified voice as she came over. “Sho-san, Ninomiya-san, thank god…”

A Russian voice spoke to her, and Nino felt her hand on his shoulder. “This way,” Aragaki said. “This way, there’s an ambulance. They need to make sure you’re okay.”

He felt empty, he felt wrong when Sho stepped away. Aragaki wrapped an arm around him, helping him to move away from the car. Nino had no desire to turn back around and look at how the gunshots had shattered the glass, pierced the doors, stolen Vassily away. Vassily who loved Dragonball.

Aragaki stayed by to translate as Sho and Nino were sat down side by side on a gurney inside one of the ambulances that had come to the scene. The paramedics examined them, confirming that none of the blood on them was their own aside from a cut above Nino’s eyebrow and the little pricks from the window glass on both of their hands. The rest of it was all Vassily’s…

The paramedics looked them over thoroughly, their faces sympathetic as they asked their questions, confirmed that neither of them was going into shock. They both declined to be taken to a hospital, and the paramedics agreed that it wasn’t necessary. The wound on his forehead wasn’t deep, needing nothing more than a butterfly bandage. It was recommended that they follow up with a doctor back home, just to be on the safe side.

Aragaki was on the phone with the Embassy. “We’re moving you all to a different hotel by the airport, away from town. And then we’ve got you rebooked on the first flight out in the morning.”

“Okay,” Sho said, his voice weak. “Was it Golden Falcons?”

Aragaki frowned. “It was a sniper on the rooftop across the street. The police were able to stop him.”

“But was it Golden Falcons?” Sho asked more pointedly.

“They aren’t telling us anything yet.”

Aragaki left to arrange their transportation, the two of them left alone on the gurney. Nino didn’t care who saw when he reached over, intertwining his fingers with Sho’s.

He spoke, voice barely more than a whisper. “Hey Sho-san…”

“Yeah?”

“When it comes to overseas travel, you have the shittiest luck.”

Sho let out a snort of disbelief.

“Do me a favor,” Nino said, squeezing Sho’s hand tight. “Don’t buy a snow globe to remember this one.”

Sho squeezed back, rubbing his thumb along Nino’s hand. “Definitely not.”

—

**xiv. my own damn ketchup**

The paramedics had done a fine job cleaning them up. Aside from the bandage on his face, no one would know that hours earlier he’d nearly died.

The other cars had gone a different route, straight into the traffic jam that Vassily had turned to avoid. There’d been a sniper on one of the rooftops near there too, but thankfully his gun had jammed at the most critical moment. The Golden Falcons had clearly faked the bomb threat at the mall, counting on the police’s street closings to impact the routes to be taken through the city and back to the Marriott. Their snipers had been positioned accordingly, lying in wait.

The airport hotel had less character. The rooms were smaller. His room and Sho’s were no longer side by side, let alone connected by a door. There were police and secret service everywhere - in the lobby, in the hall. The one who’d brought in Nino’s bags had put his hand to his heart. “Anokhin,” he’d said, eyes red from crying. He’d been in the car in front of them. He’d done his best to stop Vassily’s killer.

Presumably it had been Embassy staff shoving everything back in their bags at the Marriott, and Nino had the whole thing emptied out onto the ugly green bedspread, making sure nothing was missing. He could always buy another toothbrush if he had to, but some other things were irreplaceable.

Behind him on the TV, the Russian Prime Minister was probably vowing revenge, vowing to crush the Golden Falcons. This wasn’t just an attack against welcome foreign guests, but against the Russian people. There’d be a debriefing in the airport before their flight in the morning, the official details they were allowed to know about the incident. Nino doubted he’d ever know the full truth. He’d called Jun already, asked him to pass along messages that he was fine. That he was fine and he was coming home. He’d rubbed his hand along his back through his shirt, eyes shut tight. “Jun-kun, tell my mom that I’m fine, will you?”

Once he’d confirmed that nothing was missing, he changed into a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, shoving everything in his bag and dumping it near the door. He was crouched down, contemplating the mini bottles of vodka in the refrigerator when there was a light knock at the door.

He exhaled, trying to convince himself that it sounded nothing like the bullets hitting the car door. That it was a different sound entirely.

He got up, looked through the peep hole. Anokhin, standing behind Sho. He undid the locks, pulled it open.

“They told us to stay in our rooms,” Nino said quietly.

“He knows we were with Vassily today. He’s not going to say anything,” Sho replied.

Sho’s pupils were dilated, his voice raspier. He was scratching his arm to distract himself.

Nino stepped back, letting Sho inside. Anokhin gave him a firm nod, moving back to his position against the opposite wall. He shut the door, tugged the chain. He waited by the door, watching Sho stand in front of the TV in a gray cotton tank top and blue pajama bottoms, his hands jittery enough that he crossed his arms. His muscles flexed a little, and Nino tried to focus on literally anything else.

“You get a hold of your family?” he asked.

“Yep. My mother has suggested I stay in Japan for the next decade.”

“Smart woman.”

Sho nodded. “Yeah.”

They stood there silently for a few moments, but eventually the question had to be asked.

“How long?”

“Since we’ve gotten here. To the hotel, I mean,” Sho admitted. “I tried to take a nap, but I know what this is. It’s a little earlier than it had been before, but I’m guessing what happened today kicked it into gear.”

“It’s alright.”

Sho looked over, forlorn. “Don’t suppose they have anything from BloodCo in that mini fridge? You didn’t steal anything from the ambulance?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sho-san, but it was too risky.” 

“I really don’t want to see you bleed again today. The first time was hard enough.”

“Because you could smell it?”

“Because you were _hurt_ ,” Sho snapped at him, lip quivering as the virus started to push him, punish him. “You were hurt because of me. You would have been fine if you’d gone in the other car, but I had to insist, didn’t I…”

Nino took a step closer. “Then Tsumabuki-san would have been with you. And he could have been the one hurt. Something awful might have happened to both of you.”

“I don’t want this, but I don’t know what will happen if I board that flight tomorrow without it. I don’t know how much worse it could get if I wait. The stress of what happened, the time zone differences…”

“Ssh, you don’t have to say anything.” He headed for his bag, pulling out what he needed. It wasn’t anywhere near as sharp as a scalpel, but it would be clean and quick. He pulled open the mini fridge, feeling Sho’s eyes on him as he pulled out one of the mini vodka bottles. “I’m gonna pour a little on it, sterilize it a little. It’s new. Brand new, this thing.”

He went into the bathroom, took the razor out. Poured a bit of vodka over the small blade, dried it off with a hand towel. He wasn’t used to doing this himself. It had been so long…

Sho was sitting on the bed when he came back, socked feet on the floor. He looked miserable. Nino had it wrapped in the hand towel, moving to sit on the bed beside Sho, the mattress dipping more with his added weight. 

“Where?” Sho asked.

“Doesn’t matter really.” He grinned bitterly. “Ah, not the face though. If you don’t mind.”

“Nino…”

“Sorry. Coping mechanism.”

“Do I need a lot? If it’s straight from…well…?”

“The more direct the source, the less you need,” Nino admitted. “That’s why there’s more in the bottle than there is in the hospital packs.”

He held out his hand, and Sho took the razor and the towel, examining the blade. “You’re absolutely positive there’s no other option?”

“I don’t think they’ll let us out of here tonight to go shopping, do you?”

Sho sighed. “No.”

He took a breath and made a choice, tugging his t-shirt up and over his head, tossing it on the floor. Sho watched him, confused. And that was when Nino stood up, turning so Sho could see. He shut his eyes when he heard Sho’s sharp intake of breath. It really looked bad, didn’t it?

There was a mirror on the wall in front of the desk, and Nino looked into it, seeing himself. The butterfly bandage above his brow, his pale skin, his bared chest and torso. Sho sitting there on the bed staring at his back. 

He’d never counted them, never counted all the tiny scars and nicks he’d racked up over time. He didn’t regret a single one.

He felt the tickle of Sho’s hand at the base of his spine, and slowly he stood up, standing directly behind him. Sho’s fingertips moved upward, brushing across the markings and sending a shiver down his spine. Their eyes met in the mirror.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve let someone drink from you,” Sho said.

He shook his head. “No. It’s not.”

“It was all…consensual?” He couldn’t help but be amused by the jealousy he could hear in Sho’s voice. “Nino, there’s a lot of them…”

“There ought to be. I was all she had for the longest time.”

Sho’s hand rested on his shoulder. “Who?”

He smiled. “My mother.”

Sho stood behind him, said nothing. Let him explain. Let him explain why he was so good at keeping secrets. 

His parents had gotten divorced when he was eleven, and it had been tough. They didn’t have a lot of money, and his mother put everything she had into her work at the factory. Early shifts. Late shifts. Any opportunity she could find to keep putting food on the table.

When Nino was fourteen, she’d started seeing someone from work. An older man, a shift supervisor who promised her better hours. She never brought him around the house much, assuming correctly that Nino had no interest in ever being friendly with him. He’d been a moody guy, and Nino despised him. Perfectly nice one day, utterly nasty the next for seemingly no good reason. It was twenty years ago, and the NLM had been stretched a bit thin back then.

They couldn’t always do weekly checks. 

His mother came home in the middle of the night, shaking. He remembered how dull her voice had sounded. She’d had a scarf on, unwrapped it. He’d bitten her. “He’s never ever raised a hand to me, but he’s been different the last few days…”

They both knew what it was, both knew what it meant. But she refused to call. Refused to report it. They’d been sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast a day or two later when the older man’s death was reported on the news, confirming it. She felt so dirty and ashamed. Society had taught her that was the correct response. 

“Maybe it would be best if things run their course for me like it did for Ren-san,” she had said a day after that. “I’ve taken out a life insurance policy. It will go to you.”

“We don’t have to tell anyone,” he’d pleaded with her. “It’s just me and you, Mom. Nobody has to know.”

She’d screamed when he deliberately cut himself in front of her, but he insisted. “I need you,” he told her. “I need you to stay with me. Please don’t die…”

After that, she’d gotten by on the smallest amounts she could.

He met Sho’s eyes in the mirror. “I was the one who said it would be fine if she used my back. Then she didn’t have to look at my face while she was doing it.”

Sho was in tears. “Why didn’t you report it? Why didn’t she?”

“She thought as a single mother that they’d take me away. Or that I’d be bullied and attacked at school if the secret got out. The only reason anyone found out was because she helped someone. She wasn’t thinking, she just reacted. When I was in my last year of high school a repairman was on a ladder fixing something on our building. He slipped and the ladder fell away. She hauled him onto our balcony easily, but the guy was twice her size. Instead of thanking her for saving his life, he reported her.”

“What happened?”

“Back then the charge for hiding Viral status was thirty years. But they let her out for good behavior a few years back. Aiba-kun…he works with me…he’s her monitor since I’m too close to be objective where she’s concerned.”

“Why do you work for the NLM and the Ministry if it was their policies that got your mother thrown in prison for all those years?”

He shrugged in embarrassment, looking down. “Didn’t want anyone to repeat the same mistakes. I did what I had to do to keep my mother alive, to keep her from letting the Thirsting Virus win and leaving me behind all alone. I don’t want anyone else to struggle like she did. I want to help people in a way I didn’t know how to when I was younger. People like you, Sho-san.”

Sho’s arms came around him, hugging him from behind. He shut his eyes, wrapping his hand around Sho’s forearm, squeezing tight.

“It’s okay,” Nino told him. “I’m guessing it’s intimidating back there, all that history. You can make the cut anywhere you want. I trust that you’re not going to slash my jugular and let me bleed out in a Moscow hotel.”

“Nino, I want to be with you,” Sho said quietly.

He blushed. “One heartfelt story about my mom is all it takes to get a confession, huh?”

“I’ve wanted to be with you since you made me go get my own damn ketchup.”

He felt a rush of happiness flood through him, laughing despite the seriousness of everything. What happened that day, what happened to Vassily. Letting Sho see the scars that few others had ever seen.

He moved, turning in Sho’s arms so he could face him. He looked up, bringing his hand to Sho’s cheek. The dark eyes, a few beads of sweat running down from his hair. He’d stood by so patiently, listening. But Sho was in pain, and Nino refused to allow any more sappy lovey-dovey talk to interfere. 

“Sho, you need to drink.” Nino stepped away, bracing himself against the desk, keeping his back exposed to Sho. “Just a little cut. It’s not going to hurt me.”

He felt Sho approach, fingertips ticklish along his skin. Sho opted to avoid the marks Nino’s mother had made, aiming a little higher. Making a quick slash across the back of his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Sho murmured. “God, I’m sorry.”

But then Sho’s mouth was against him, against the cut he’d just made. It only stung for a moment but it had never felt this way before. He’d never been cut and given his blood to someone he wanted as badly as he wanted Sakurai Sho.

He moaned softly, eyes fluttering closed as Sho’s tongue lapped against his skin. He’d fantasized about this before they’d even met face to face. Over time, he’d imagined Sho’s mouth elsewhere, taking what he needed to keep himself alive. Along his neck, along his wrist. He’d even fantasized about Sho making a cut to his inner thigh, sucking at the sensitive skin there. All of those various fantasies came roaring back, colliding with the reality he was already experiencing.

He knew he was hard, had been from the moment Sho had said he wanted to be with him. While Sho’s mouth sucked and licked at the cut he’d made, one hand tight around Nino’s arm to hold him steady, Nino slipped back to find Sho’s other hand. Nino tugged the razor and towel from Sho’s fingertips, setting them down on the desk in front of him. He looked up with bleary eyes, seeing Sho look up to meet his gaze in the mirror.

Slowly, Nino moved his hand back, finding Sho’s hand again now that it was free. He brought it to his hip, brought his own hand back to find Sho’s ass. He needed more. They kept it quiet, Nino’s soft gasps and moans, Sho’s heavy breathing as he licked at the cut near his shoulder.

They hadn’t even kissed, but he could feel the hard length of Sho against his backside now. He wanted this, needed this. After everything they’d been through - just that day, over all these weeks. What should have felt forbidden instead felt like relief. Sho started to move a little, rutting against his ass, still taking the blood he needed as it slowly trickled from the cut he’d made. Nino moved with him, fingers tightening in the fabric of Sho’s pajama bottoms, forcing their bodies into closer proximity.

Sho’s fingers moved inward, sliding along the waistband of his pants. “Please,” he murmured. And Sho did as he was asked, slipping them inside. He groaned when Sho’s fingers found his cock. All Sho did was hold him, and Nino rocked his hips as Sho continued to rub himself against his ass. They probably looked ridiculous, but it felt so good he didn’t care.

Eventually the movements of Sho’s mouth along his skin changed. His mouth drifted elsewhere. Instead of searching for blood, Sho kissed him. Each warm, damp press of that mouth against him made him whimper. All along his shoulders, against his neck. Sho kissed everywhere he could.

A rather noisy commercial came on, louder than the news program that had long since become background noise. 

They stopped, Nino looking up to meet Sho’s eyes in the mirror once more.

“How’s your headache?” Nino asked.

“Better.” Sho licked his lips. “But I should stick a bandaid on you before this gets…unsanitary.”

Nino bucked his hips, craving the friction Sho’s hand was providing. “Get me off first?”

Sho rolled his eyes but did as requested. Sho’s hand worked his cock, focused entirely on him. He couldn’t speak, moaning for Sho to finish what he’d started. He was close. He was so close. Sho seemed to realize it too, grabbing the hand towel from the desk, pushing Nino’s pajamas down. 

Sho was sucking at the skin of his neck, nipping gently with his teeth as Nino came hard into the towel, Sho’s firm touch working him through it.

Eventually he stopped moving, breaking into soft laughter, sighing in approval as Sho pressed a few more kisses against the side of his neck.

“Now can I go get a bandaid for you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said airily. “Got some in my toiletry bag.”

He tugged his pants back up and trailed Sho to the bathroom, stood there obediently as he washed and dried him with another towel, putting the bandage over the cut. Sho then turned him around and leaned down, finally kissing him. It sent shivers down his spine, Sho wrapping an arm around him. He tried not to think about the taste of his own blood on Sho’s lips, instead wrapping his arms around Sho’s neck, keeping him close.

Sho knocked some of the items on the countertop aside, hoisting him easily and depositing him there. It was cold even through his pajama bottoms, and he yelped a little, earning a laugh from Sho. Fuck, Sho had picked him up like he weighed nothing. So this was the Viral strength he could look forward to, huh? 

Sho leaned close again, mouth finding his. His kisses were surprisingly soft, gentle after the impulsive things they’d done just moments earlier. It was so easy to kiss Sho and be kissed by him, he couldn’t even understand why he’d put himself through so much unnecessary whining all this time.

He eventually leaned back, fingers teasingly prodding at Sho’s tank top. “You came in here wearing this on purpose.”

“What?” Sho asked, pressing a kiss to the mole on his chin. “I came in here because I had a headache. I gave no thought to my fashion choices.”

“Sounds like fake news to me. For shame.”

Sho kissed him again, shutting him up for a while. Eventually Nino took him by the hand, led Sho back to the bed. He shut off the TV while Sho turned out the lights. He maneuvered himself between Sho’s thighs, desperate to find out if the drawing that fan had done was accurate. Well, he had no complaints. He let Sho’s fingers tighten in his hair, let Sho’s cock fill his mouth, let Sho come down his throat.

Nino pulled the blankets up, letting Sho spoon up behind him. 

That day Sho had tasted his blood, and he’d given it willingly. That day they’d nearly died. And even though they hadn’t, they’d seen Vassily be taken right before their eyes. Today had been a lot, but today wouldn’t be the last. Nino knew that Sho would never stop pursuing his stories, pursuing the truth. If this lasted, this new life…Nino would never stop being afraid for him. 

But as he drifted off to sleep in a foreign bed in a foreign hotel with Sakurai Sho’s strong arms around him, he decided that being afraid was a price he was willing to pay.

—

**xv. this new life**

“…Vassily Kuznetsov was a true friend to Japan,” the Prime Minister was announcing. “And so in addition to the honorary Japanese citizenship that has been granted to him posthumously, we are renaming the Japanese embassy’s building in Moscow for him so that all who pass within its walls will be reminded of his untimely and cruel loss.”

Yuriko turned the TV to a different channel, a commercial for maxi pads taking its place. “Oi!” shouted the others gathered around.

“I was watching that!” Aiba complained.

“That broadcast was such a downer,” she complained, keeping hold of the remote and clicking around.

“A man died,” Jun reminded her. “Helping Japanese citizens.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “They’ve only been talking about it non-stop. It can’t be good for you, Ninomiya-kun…having to see that over and over.”

She was using him as an excuse, but he took no offense to her blunt comments.

“I am remarkably well-adjusted,” he said, leaning forward to grab his glass of beer. And it was true. Much as he’d dreaded it at first, talking to the therapist that JTV had found for him really had been helpful so far. It lessened his guilt, gave him an outlet for the feelings as they lingered, the traumatic memories of that day in the car.

The members of the NLM’s Shinjuku branch had gathered together that night to officially wish Eikura-san well. Her train was set to leave for Iwate around 7:00, so she’d already departed, leaving the four of them behind to continue drinking without her. Nino had only met her for the first time a few days after his return from Moscow, but she’d had nothing but kind messages to pass along from his regular Viral crew. They’d all missed him and were looking forward to him coming back to boss them around, Ishihara Satomi included. 

They’d gathered at Zip in the private room in back. Tonight Aiba’s friend had tried to reproduce Mickey waffles as a snack. Sure, they’d tasted fine but poor Mickey had been looking rough. They all suggested Kazama stick to the alcoholic Dole Whip.

After taking it easy the last few hours, Jun put his managerial foot down. “Switch it back, Yoshitaka-san. We have to say good night to Sho-san.”

Nino felt himself turn red, and not just because of all he’d had to drink. His secret assignment was over, and Zero News’ Sakurai Sho was now Aiba’s responsibility to monitor. And in a tiny office like theirs, word got around in an instant. Nino had returned from Moscow to officially resign as Sho’s monitor. Not because of the traumatic experience he’d endured. Not because of all the fan mail he’d had to open at JTV for weeks. But because he and Sho were dating now.

Yuriko reluctantly switched back to JTV. The replay of the Prime Minister’s speech was over, and the regular Zero News team was back on screen. Jun and Aiba clapped in an obnoxious manner upon seeing Sho again, talking to Udo-san about a spate of bicycle thefts in Bunkyo Ward.

Soon the news was over, and they all waved goodbye to the Shinjuku branch’s favorite newscaster. It was a Friday night, and Jun and Aiba were heading out to another bar. Yuriko declined in favor of spending more time with her latest so-and-so. Aiba had an arm around Jun’s shoulder, was secretly flashing Nino the number five, mostly on account of the shoes with the pom poms on them that Jun had worn for their big night out.

While Jun looked at his phone, Nino snuck back a 3 in reply, earning a snort from Aiba. Nino was always deducting points for footwear.

“You coming, Nino-chan?” Aiba asked.

“Nah, I think I’m going to head home myself. I’ve made the mistake of accepting an invite to some fancy pants soiree Satomi-san is hosting tomorrow night.”

“Mostly to keep Ohno-san from running away, I’m sure,” Aiba joked.

Nino offered a wink in reply. Ah, the things he would do for the people and Virals he cared about.

They went their separate ways, and instead of catching the last train for the night, Nino started to walk. He was almost to Akasaka when he got the call. His wrap-up meeting had sure been quick tonight.

“Where are you? Masuda can swing by to get you.”

He grinned. “I’m only a few blocks away, don’t worry about it.”

He’d gotten back the key and keycard he’d turned in, though he was still living at his own place for the time being. The terms of their future were still being hammered out. Besides, it wasn’t like JTV was paying his rent anymore.

He waited in the lobby, inhaling the citrus “signature scent.” No place like home. Well, no place like the place that felt more like home every time he’d stayed over in the last few weeks since they’d gotten back from Russia.

Sho came in a few minutes later, saying nothing but offering an enigmatic smile as he approached. They took the elevator up and soon Sho was turning the key in the lock, welcoming Nino back inside. He kicked off his shoes, heading straight to the sofa and flopping down on it.

“Nice job today,” Nino said, unwilling to budge. “I liked that blue tie.”

“The stylist picked it out,” Sho said, tossing his keys on the table like he always did.

Sho disappeared into his room, stripping away his celebrity aura. When he came back in sweats and one of those t-shirts with the colorful pockets, Nino felt fortunate. This was the Sho he got to see. The real one with his snores and his stubbornness. He rolled over onto his back so that Sho could get onto the couch, resting his weight on top of him.

He looked up, tracing along Sho’s jaw with his fingertips. “I’d say that I missed you, but I just saw you on TV.”

“Well, I didn’t have the same luxury,” Sho said, leaning in. “So let me show you how much I missed you.”

And so he did, with soft but insistent kisses. A detour to the shower. Laughter after a start and stop in the hall. And finally they made it to the bed - Sho behind him, inside him, Nino’s moans of satisfaction urging him to go and go and go. To tug his hair. To make him his.

There was no need to worry about Sho’s condition, about the virus - at least not tonight. Their experience in Russia had taught Sho that you could be taken away in an instant, and that applied to those with the Thirsting Virus and those without it. He was more diligent now, about keeping his body healthy. Keeping the virus at bay. The only blood he really liked was Nino’s, but for now he stuck to the bottles. It was enough for Nino to know that Sho found the scent and taste of him irresistible.

He turned onto his side, stroking his fingers along Sho’s arm, across his chest. For all Sho’s Viral strength and stamina, he’d still had a long day. Nino grinned, knowing that soon those grandfather snores would be back. Nevertheless he would stay. 

In the morning he’d probably make breakfast, just happening to make enough for two. Sho would struggle his way out of bed, hair a mess. They’d eat, and Sho would make that face. That ‘how are you so good at cooking’ face. They’d talk. About Russia if they had to, about the secrets they kept if they had to. Or about silly and meaningless things if they preferred. And sitting there, listening to Sho, watching Sho - Nino would fall just a little more, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky.

Maybe someday the stigma in Japan would fall away. People like Sho and people like Nino’s friends wouldn’t have to hide. “I want to be the one to tell that story,” Sho had told him a few times. “When it’s time to talk about it, I want it to be me.”

It would be scary. It would likely be dangerous. But Nino had every confidence that Sakurai Sho would accomplish what he set out to do. Even if Nino himself wasn’t altogether ambitious, he supported that side of Sho however he could. 

Not as a job. Not as his monitor. But as the man who loved him.

**Author's Note:**

> -The idea of a vampire-like virus is borrowed from the Blue Bloods series by Bec McMaster (though I’m sure this isn’t the only ~vampirism as virus~ concept out there)  
> -The scene in Vassily’s car was heavily borrowed from a similar scene in the BBC’s Bodyguard with Richard Madden/Keeley Hawes


End file.
